


First Times

by Lafaiette



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Age Difference, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 03:12:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 79,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6594382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafaiette/pseuds/Lafaiette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of vignettes showing Solas and Scarlet Lavellan's "first times" throughout their relationship. Mostly fluff, rating will rise. </p><p>1st scene: Frilly Cakes (after the kiss in the Fade)<br/>2nd scene: Hands (established relationship)<br/>3rd scene: Sleep (established relationship)<br/>4th scene: Argument (established relationship)<br/>5th scene: Making Love (established relationship)<br/>6th scene: Nail Polish (established relationship)<br/>7th scene: I Love You (established relationship, before Making Love)<br/>8th scene: Distance (after break-up)<br/>9th scene: Birthday (Scarlet) (established relationship)<br/>10th scene: Birthday (Solas) (established relationship)<br/>11th scene: Marriage (post-Trespasser)<br/>12th scene: Parenthood (post-Trespasser)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Frilly Cakes

She has been to Val Royeaux in the past, only once: she remembers well that fateful day when people asked her who she was, when the Templars rebelled to the Chantry, and Haven still existed.

She didn’t have the time to stop by the various booths that day, Cassandra’s grumbles and muttered curses reminding her of more important things to deal with. They rapidly looked around, found Sera’s note, spoke with Enchanter Fiona, and then went back to their base in the Frostback Mountains.

Months have passed since then and the Inquisition is reborn. She is the leader now, the Inquisitor: the new title has replaced the old one, although some people still believe she is the Herald of Andraste, not listening to her complaints.

They visit Val Royeaux again and today at least they have no hurry, no haste speeds their strides up.

Cole needs a new armor, she has to buy a new coat which hopefully won’t let enemies’ blades reach her poor flesh, Varric wants to check out some new books, Solas…

She doesn’t know what Solas wants to buy, exactly.

They kissed in the Fade - _her first kiss!_ an awestruck part of Scarlet reminds her - and since then things have been normal, but also timid between them. A sort of quiet sweetness characterizes their conversations, their words tinted with the luminous memory of that kiss.

There is patience in the air, but Scarlet never felt like this before and she rolls in her bed every night, wondering what his answer will be and when it will come. At the same time, she is afraid of embarrassing him, of putting him in a difficult position if she talks with him too much.

He might think she is insisting, that she doesn’t want to give him any more time and that’s the last thing she wants him to believe.

So now she usually waits for him to start their conversations, to begin talking; she wants to be absolutely sure he wishes to speak with her and every time it happens, she can’t help but get enthusiastic - _too_ enthusiastic - and talk and ask so many questions she is left breathless after a few minutes.

Then she panics and either gets quiet or goes away with an excuse, pretending to be very busy.

Well, she _is_ very busy, but she would gladly spend her entire day with him.

 _‘Pity I can’t because I am terrible at this.’_ she grimly thinks as she helps Cole choose new fabrics and leathers for his jacket. She will improve it later in the undercroft of Skyhold.

 _‘He must think I am just a stupid little girl who can’t even look at him in the eye. A socially inept child.’_ She sees him observing a shiny armor just a few meters away, carefully watched by the snobbish Orlesian merchant, and sighs.

 _‘… I bet I am making puppy eyes at him right now. Stop it, you stupid!’_ She quickly looks away, cursing at herself and hoping Varric didn’t notice anything. If he did, he would joke about it for _weeks_ and then she wouldn’t be even able to stay in the same room as Solas.

But Cole _did_ notice and he whispers behind her:

“He does not think that.”

Scarlet bites down her yelp, but a small, strangled gasp escapes her all the same. She almost stumbles as she turns around to face the boy and stare at him with big eyes and burning cheeks.

Then she realizes what he just said and hope blossoms on her face.

She can practically _feel_ it transform her features. Is this how the characters of Varric’s books feel like?

“Really?” she whispers with a smile and Cole nods. He is smiling back at her, his large and big hat slightly raised to show his face.

He is holding another one, smaller, with beautiful golden decorations on the brim. It looks so expensive it’s probably made of skin of elven children and gold taken from the lion statues of the city.

Cole is about to say something else - and Scarlet leans in, her heart about to explode -, but then Solas approaches and she can only stare at him, enthralled.

His smile is blinding and his voice is softer than the velvet in her hands.

“Are you sure you want that one, Cole? It looks rather… rich.”

“Which we are not.” Varric chuckles from somewhere in the shop, earning himself a disgusted scoff from the merchant.

The boy looks down at the Orlesian hat and hesitates for a moment, then nods in agreement.

“… Shiny, too shiny, elegant for clothes that are not. Maybe the gold is too much.”

“I can sew you a better one.” Scarlet smiles at him, rubbing his arm amicably and he beams at her, before hurrying to put the hat back where he found it.

She is left alone with Solas and bravely directs her smile at him. She can’t help but observe him better, at first just because he is _there_ , so near she can see the freckles on his cheeks, then also because his clothes catch her attention.

His robes are old and dusty, soiled with the dirt of the long road. They don’t look sturdy and warm enough and the edge of his coat is frayed. There is a hole on his sweater.

Scarlet looks at all that with expert, worried eyes. He need something better for the battles and the cold, humid, dry, warm days that await them.

“Solas, you should buy new equipment too.”

“There is no need. I am quite comfortable with the one I am currently wearing.”

He keeps smiling serenely, but she just gets more worried. She does a rapid calculation: with more fabric and leathers and some decent schematics, she should be able to sew and craft a new jacket for Cole and new robes for Solas… as well as fix Bull and Blackwall’s armors with Harritt’s help.

The coffers of the Inquisition aren’t much full. They are basically almost _empty_ , to be honest, and Josephine is doing her best to gain more alliances, improve the trade routes, and turn Skyhold into an important destination for every merchant of Thedas to fill them.

They will need time, care, talent, and a great dose of luck.

Scarlet is optimistic: she survived a trip in the Fade she can’t even remember and the attack of a mad magister on Haven, avalanche included. She might not have much money, but at least she has some luck she can share with her friends.

Her coat can wait, she thinks as she gets more leathers suitable for Cole’s jacket and mage schematics for Solas. The price rises even further when she also buys metals for the warriors’ armors and colorful threads to decorate Cole’s hat with.

Her companions stare at her in shock as she walks over to the merchant with all that stuff in her hands and the human slowly begins to count.

“Inquisitor!” Solas whispers in her ear, making a pleasant shiver run down her spine. “What are those schematics for? I thought we did not need them!”

“They are for you, because you _clearly_ need them.” she corrects him, hoping she is using her professional, stern ‘Inquisitor’ tone and not her ‘I am madly in love with you’ one.

“What about your coat?” he insists, glaring down at the huge rip she sewed back after a Red Templar attacked her. “Don’t waste money for something I do not require! This is too-”

“Solas, I know what I am doing.” she hisses, elbowing him and gently pushing him out of the way.

His face is a mixture between worry and surprise, which his body decides to show the world through a massive scowl.

“Inquisitor.” he insists one last time, before Scarlet - gently - kicks him in the shin. He lets out a strangled noise and begrudgingly lets her do her thing, while Varric and Cole fidget next to them, looking with wide eyes at the growing pile of stuff she has to pay for.

The dwarf opens his mouth to say something, then sighs and scratches his head. Cole tilts his head, watching the merchant seal the schematics with attentive eyes.

The Orlesian dryly informs Scarlet of the sum - Solas makes a weird, low sound, Varric swears under his breath - and she hurries to look into the small leather pouch that contains her coins: two sovereigns - or _royals_ , as Leliana told her they are called in Orlais -, a few silvers and a lot more of coppers.

She quietly takes them all, gripping tightly the bag before Solas can peek into it, and gives them to the merchant. Her pouch is empty, but she holds it in a certain way to make her friends believe there are still some coins inside.

She never spent so much money in her life before - Dalish elves usually have no use for it and if they do, they use it only to buy essential food and materials from the less racist humans.

Her head feels as light as her pouch while they head out of the shop, whereas their bags are heavier and filled with leathers and fabrics of good quality. Even though it is not food, she has no doubt what they bought is important as well, so her heart is at peace.

“Orlesians.” Varric mumbles shaking his head. “No wonder they can allow themselves to have gilded statues in their city.”

“Did we pay a lot? I don’t know how money works.” Cole asks, looking at his filled bag hanging from his shoulder.

“It was a _robbery_ , kid! Remind me to never buy shit in Val Royeaux.” Varric turns to Scarlet, whose cheeks are getting redder with each passing second.

Did they really pay _that_ much? Before the events of the Conclave, she used money only once, when she visited a small village with her father.

She had no idea she was really paying _too much_ for something they could have found elsewhere for a smaller price.

She doesn’t have the courage to look at Solas. He is silent, walking right next to her.

“Did you tell that merchant you are the Inquisitor?” Varric continues, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe we could’ve got a discount!”

“I did when we entered. The price was already discounted.” Scarlet sheepishly replies and the dwarf sighs, shaking his head again.

“ _Orlesians_.” he repeats with more distaste. “Alright, at least we know where we are _not_ buying stuff next time.” Then he glances at the alley where the tavern and the stairs leading to more shops are.

Scarlet feels her heart drop into the pits of her stomach. This afternoon, before entering the city, she imagined eating in that tavern with her companions, tasting Orlesian cuisine and spending a lovely time with her friends, with _Solas_.

But that place is probably as expensive as the shop, maybe even more, and they can’t afford to eat there nor in any other tavern Val Royeaux can offer them.

She looks at the sky, at its orange and purple colors, at the crows and seagulls flying in it without a care in the world, and feels bad. They can’t even buy a room for the night, not with her empty pouch and Solas and Varric’s few coppers.

“Aren’t writers and businessmen supposed to be rich, anyway?” she mumbles, tightening her ruined coat around herself to fight the cold wind. Varric shoots her a shocked look and gasps, a hand on his hairy chest.

“Inquisitor, you wound me! Of course I am rich!” He makes a funny face and shrugs. “Just not here, I suppose. I left most of my stuff in Kirkwall.”

Scarlet has no idea whether to believe him or not, but he looks sincere and contrite, so she supposes he is telling the truth. Still, she is ashamed: as Inquisitor, she should be careful with the money of the organization, understand when a piece costs way too much, know where the best deals are, how to negotiate.

She remembers what Solas was trying to tell her back in the shop and her ears get as red as her hair. Her bag feels so, so heavy now.

Josephine is going to kill them, she thinks with a jolt of fear.

“Let’s see what good stories were published while the world went crazy, huh?” Varric says, grinning at Cole. “Say, kid, what kind of books do you like?”

“… I am not sure.”

Scarlet has no desire to visit the bookshop, though; she’d rather sit on one of the marble benches of the market and scold herself until night finally comes and she can close her eyes and forget about this disastrous day.

Solas might not have considered her a child _before_ , but _now_ he definitely does, she has no doubts about that.

“That’s not true.” Cole says suddenly. “He doesn’t think that.”

“What? Who?” Varric looks at both of them, confused, and she can feel Solas’ eyes staring at her back, so she does what she does best since that kiss in the Fade.

She panics.

With a nervous laughter, she pats Cole’s shoulder and says, too quickly, too loud: “Why don’t you guys go visit the bookshop while I take a break here and decorate your hat?” She smiles at the boy and Varric, perhaps too brightly. The dwarf looks almost scared. “Isn’t that a wonderful idea?”

“Decorate my hat…?” Cole repeats, eyes wide, and Scarlet immediately softens, going back to her usual self. Her panic subsides and her smile turns reassuring, gentle.

“Yes! That’s why I bought the colored threads. What would you like to see on it?”

“Mh…” Cole fidgets, timid; he plays with his sleeves, tugs at them, then smiles and exclaims: “A rabbit! Can you sew a rabbit on it? Inside the brim, not outside, so I will see it run and jump, a bunny leaping into my arms to be safe.”

“A rabbit sounds perfect.” Scarlet gently takes his hat and fixes his longish blond hair. “Leave your bags here, you will walk more comfortably without them.”

Solas speaks and the sound of his voice makes her jump, while his words make her turn to him so fast her neck makes a cracking noise.

“I think I will stay here too. My legs are rather tired.” He smiles at Scarlet and she stares dumbly at him as he adds: “Will that be alright, Inquisitor?”

She can only nod since her mouth refuses to work - she nods _too fast_ , because Varric chuckles and gives them a knowing smile, before turning to Cole.

“Well, it seems it’s just you and me, kid! Come on, let’s go see if there are some books you might like. They could be in the Inquisition library too.”

Scarlet watches them enter the alley in silence, then realizes Solas is moving the bags they left on the ground to the nearest marble bench. She gasps and hurries to help him, careful not to ruin Cole’s hat.

He sits down with a relieved groan, massaging his knees and observing the golden spires hit by the last rays of the sun. His expression is calm and serene, his brow smooth.

Scarlet quietly sits next to him, not too far, not too close, and takes her sewing kit out of a pocket of her ruined coat.

She is embarrassed, even more ashamed than before, and her empty pouch weights more than all the bags at their feet. She doesn’t know how to apologize, how to fix this, so she focuses on sewing, something that always manages to calm her down. She leans in, her back almost hunched, and starts.

First she outlines the figure of a rabbit with a piece of chalk under the brim of the hat, then chooses a grey thread to begin. This will require some days of work, but since they will have to camp along the road, she is sure it will be complete before they reach Skyhold. Providing they won’t meet bothersome Red Templars or Venatori, of course.

Solas’ presence next to her slows her down: she is constantly aware of the way he slightly shifts on the bench, of his breathing, of his scent. Under the red curtain of her hair, she can see his bare toes twitch against the cobblestones, his hands still rubbing his aching knees.

“Oh!” he exclaims all of a sudden, causing her to jump out of her skin again. She almost stings herself with the needle. “Looks like they are selling frilly cakes over there.”

She blinks, raising her head, follows his gaze and repeats softly: “… Frilly cakes?”

There is a small booth in the distance; it doesn’t look permanent like the others, meaning it probably moves around the city to sell its goods everywhere.

She isn’t sure it was there when they arrived, but they spent so much time in the two main shops for armors and weapons that she barely glanced at the plaza.

A shy, child-like desire fills her heart. She often heard good things about the famous Orlesian sweets, the Orlesian talent in pastry-making, rivaled only by the decadent Tevinter Imperium.

Her clan never came across merchants who sold frilly cakes and stories about the incredible taste of chocolate which decorated them were many among her peers: one of her clan-mate heard it could heal bad mood instantly, another one swore it was made with just a tiny bit of lyrium and had magical properties.

Everyone agreed it was _delicious_.

However, nobody in the clan Lavellan ever had the chance to taste it nor eat the elegantly decorated cakes the Orlesians sold in their cities, so it was just a wistful desire shared both by the children and the grown-ups.

An even younger part of Scarlet wants to sell everything she is wearing just for the chance to taste one little frilly cake. Only one, the smallest one the booth is selling. It wouldn’t even matter if there was chocolate or not on it.

But that would be unwise, the adult side of her reminds her, so she pretends not to be interested and _drooling_ and focuses back on Cole’s hat.

“That’s good.” is all she says and she feels like fainting when Solas suddenly laughs.

“I presume we don’t have enough coins for some, am I right?”

Her head snaps up again and she stares at him with alarm and shame. But Solas is smiling kindly, shoulders shaking with silent laughter, and his beautiful full lips are twitching.

Scarlet sighs and slumps on the bench, looking sadly at the booth at the other side of the plaza, well visible from where they are.

“No.” she admits. “I used all the money we had in that shop.”

Solas chuckles, a sweet sound that ends with a snort. He presses a hand on his mouth to stifle the sound, but his whole body is shaking now, not just his shoulders.

“It’s not funny!” Scarlet exclaims. “This is very serious, Solas! I am supposed to be the Inquisitor and yet…!”

“You have not always been the Inquisitor.” he reminds her, his voice still containing a hint of mirth.

His smile broadens and he continues: “You cannot ask too much from yourself. You will learn, you will know more, you will experience more. Give yourself time.”

“But we don’t have much time.” she sighs, playing with the silver thread stuck into the brim of the hat. “Or at least, I can’t afford to waste it. There are many things to do and everyone is counting on me and I can’t take things slowly.”

A moment of silence, then Solas replies softly: “You are right. I often forget time is fleeting.”

His tone is different, sad, and she turns to him, afraid of having upset him. But he is still smiling at her, the same kind smile from before that tints her cheeks red and makes her heart beat ten times faster.

“Still, you have friends, companions, and advisors you can count on. I am sure you will learn soon everything there is to know about leadership.” He leans in and Scarlet’s breath hitches in her throat.

The orange hues of the sunset make his eyes look darker, but also softer, as if the calm quietness of the day, of that peculiar moment that precedes the night, has affected them too.

“And about good deals and negotiations in the shops.” he grins, laughter bubbling inside his chest again.

She laughs with him, relieved to see he is not angry nor disappointed. She scoots closer to him and twists the thread between her fingers, trying to find the right words.

“I… I am sorry for not listening to you. It was rude of me. I shouldn’t have dismissed your advice like that.” She smirks and elbows him, the gesture playful and cheerful. “But you _do_ need new robes.”

“And you need a new coat.” he retorts with a frown. He hesitates, then does something unexpected: he elbows her in return and she can’t help but laugh again.

“Still, thank you for your concern and those schematics.” he continues, his smile warm. “We will think of something for your equipment once we are at Skyhold.”

He looks on the verge of saying something else and she distinctly feels his hand slip towards her, his fingertips touching hers.

He is close, very close, and Scarlet would give anything just to be able to kiss him again. But she promised him more time and she doesn’t want to ruin this precious friendship - which is about to become more…? - they have.

She sees many different emotions on Solas’ face and they change so quickly she can barely name them; she sees no regret, though, and that reassures her. If he feels no regret for their kiss in the Fade, if he hasn’t forgotten it, then maybe…

He clears his throat and looks away and Scarlet does the same, her blush reaching her neck and ears.

“Why don’t…” he starts, nodding at the booth. “Why don’t we buy some?”

She babbles something, she doesn’t even know what, then manages to respond: “But we don’t have any money!”

“I have some coppers.” he chuckles, getting up. “It’s not a lot, but it should be more than enough for at least two frilly cakes. Unless the merchant will rise the price because of our pointed ears.”

“I will tell him I’m the Inquisitor!” Scarlet exclaims, the little pin bearing the symbol of the organization shining on her coat.

“The Inquisition is still not as influent and strong as it needs be.” Solas says and she knows he is right.

People heard about them, but still don’t know what to make of them. They need to see more, to witness their true might before the Inquisition can hope to gain more allies and build an army to fight Corypheus.

That small symbol helped them get a discount, though; it wasn’t much, but at least they have been already acknowledged in some manner.

Solas seems to think the same, because he smiles again and rests his hand on Scarlet’s shoulder. It’s almost hot, its weight is comforting, and she stares at him with a goofy smile that she is sure looks silly.

“But it is on the right path to become something worthy of great respect. Fabrics and frilly cakes are only the first step.” He squeezes her shoulder, then motions her to get up. “Let us leave our stuff here. Nobody will bother it.”

“I highly doubt that, Solas.” she chuckles, but he raises an eyebrow, lips curling into a lopsided, amused smirk, and gently takes her to his side before moving one hand in the air in a circular pattern.

A glowing barrier appears, a blue cage shielding the bench, the hat Scarlet left on it, and their bags from any outsiders passing by.

Scarlet knocks on it: it’s like touching hard glass and the barrier makes an echoing sound, ripples breaking on its surface.

They distractedly hear some gasps in the distance, quicks steps running away, most likely noblewomen scared by the public display of magic.

However, the market is almost empty at this hour and the guards usually patrolling its corners are nowhere to be seen. Only a few booths are still open, the one selling frilly cakes included; the merchant lit some colorful lamps and hung them on the carved roof.

“See?” Solas smiles, sliding one arm over her shoulder. “It will still be here when we come back.”

She realizes he is shielding her from the cold wind that has started blowing and she is grateful: her coat is providing no comfort and his robes, despite being so worn out, are definitely warmer.

His sweater looks so, so soft too and she is tempted to bury her face into it, breathe his scent and…

“Have you ever eaten one?”

She realizes she is staring and quickly averts her eyes from his chest to his face. She doesn’t know what to do with her hands: should she wrap her arm around his waist so they will walk better? Or should she just stay like that not to embarrass him or seem too bold?

“ _Lethallan_?”

Creators, he asked her a question and all she did was staring dumbly at him and…!

“Y-Yes? Ah, no, I never ate one, no!” She spoke too fast, too loud like usual and now all she wants to do is go rot under the bench.

Maybe she could use the Anchor to open a small Rift and jump inside it. It should work that way too, right?

But Solas doesn’t seem bothered. He chuckles and squeezes her shoulder again, saying: “I had the occasion to taste some, time ago. They are quite good.”

There is an excited, happy glint in his eyes, she notices: an enthusiastic spark she saw in the kids of the clan when there was more food to eat than usual or Dalish dry cookies had been made to celebrate someone’s birthday or a special occasion.

That sweet light in his eyes only increases as they approach the stand. The merchant is a typical Orlesian man, but he looks kinder than most and they can see his smile not hidden by his half-mask.

“Good evening!” he greets them with admirable politeness. “Interested in the most delicious creation of Orlesian cuisine?”

Scarlet peeks over the booth and her heart skips a beat.

Beautiful, delicate, lovely little cakes are displayed with care, each row divided in different colors and sizes. There are red, green, yellow, pink cakes, with funny tufts of cream on top, cherries, or brown piece of…

She gasps and wrings her hands, wanting to touch, but also afraid of ruining those tiny masterpieces.

“Is that _chocolate_?”

“Never tasted it, young lady?” the merchant asks, holding a pair of golden tongs in one hand, two small, round, wooden plates in the other. “It is quite delightful! Straight from Antiva, but the way it is used for  these works of art is entirely Orlesian!”

Scarlet stares at the sweets with rapturous eyes, unable to look away from them. Solas’ hand is no longer on her shoulder, digging deep into his pockets to look for his pouch instead, but she is no aware of that.

She studies the decorations, the different patterns drawn on the frosting, the way the chocolate looks both crunchy and deliciously melting. Some of those lines and motifs would be great for sewing and she tries to memorize the best ones for future use.

“So?” the merchant asks, snapping his tongs, not with hurry, but with a sort of happy pride. “Has the young lady decided? Or should I ask her _fiancé_ first?”

That word is Orlesian, but Scarlet understands what it means just by the sound of it and the way the man pronounced it. Her cheeks burns and she tenses up, opening and closing her mouth like a fish, words refusing to leave her poor shocked mind.

Solas chuckles and shakes his head and the hopeful, romantic part of her is disappointed… at least until he speaks.

“No, she should decide first. This is a special occasion.”

Now she is inwardly squealing, because he did not correct the man. Her cheeks burn hotter and her heart is filled with joy and trepidation.

All this is strange and terribly beautiful: standing in front of a multi-colored Orlesian booth selling cakes, in the central market of Val Royeaux, right next to Solas, who has been shielding her from the wind.

It sounds like a date, it looks like a date… is it a date? Should she consider it one? Does Solas consider it one?

She looks at him and his smile is brighter than ever. Her heart beats too fast again and she almost fears he can hear it.

“Which one would you like?” he asks and she already has the answer. She hesitates only for a second, before pointing at one chocolate cake. It’s the smallest size, so she hopes the price won’t be too high.

But Solas knows her too well. He chuckles and points at two chocolate cakes, medium sized.

“These two, please.”

“Solas…!”

“Excellent choice!” the merchant chirps happily, snapping his tongs one last time before taking the sweets and delicately placing them on the wooden disks.

The cost isn’t excessive, but Solas’ pouch is emptied all the same. Scarlet doesn’t even know how to feel, torn between guilt and elation, but at least she knows what to say.

“Thank you, _lethallin_.” she says softly and Solas’ smile could lighten the entirety of Skyhold.

She holds the wooden little plate with extreme care, never looking away from it as she walks slowly, measuring every step. She cradles it in her hands as if it’s a frail jewel ready to shatter.

She lets out a relieved sigh once they reach the bench and Solas removes the barrier with a gesture of his free hand; he is holding the frilly cake with much more ease, a smile tugging at his lips.

They sit down, watching the market now illuminated only by some lamps and the starry sky. Solas whispers some words and glowing, little orbs surround them, similar to fireflies. They cast a warm light and an even warmer - _and romantic_ , Scarlet’s heart sighs blissfully - mood.

She turns to look at Solas and smiles as he takes a huge bite. He munches quickly, happy like a child, his lips dirty with chocolate. Some even falls on his cleft chin and his tongue darts out to lick it away from his upper lip.

Then he notices he is being watched and turns to her, raising his eyebrows.

“ _Lethallan_?” he asks, worried. “You… do not like it?”

“Oh, no, I love its… its color!” she finishes lamely and then he realizes she hasn’t started eating it yet.

“How do I pick it up? Just like that?” she asks, nodding at his fingers gently holding the cake. “And how do I _bite_ it? What if the… the cream inside leaks out? What if I break it too much and ruin it?”

“ _Lethallan_.” Solas chuckles, licking his lips again.

She wants him to lick _her_ lips.

She has to look away before a heartattack kills her and the best thing to look at after Solas is the frilly cake.

“It will end up in your stomach. Its beauty is no doubt great, but it is food and you are supposed to… ruin it.”

His smile is reassuring, amused and perhaps even a bit touched. Scarlet sighs, then acts, because she can’t really wait any longer to taste this famous chocolate.

Also his mouth looks way too delicious and she is tempted to eat that instead of the cake.

She gingerly bites into the cute slice: as she expected, the chocolate is crunchy and it breaks under her teeth.

Whatever is inside is sweet, dense, it caresses her tongue and it makes ten thousand different tastes explode in her mouth. There is something bitter too and she realizes it’s the chocolate itself, rich and exotic, its flavor strong and delicate at the same time.

She never experienced something like this before, she never ate such a thing in her life before this day. This is unlike anything the Dalish prepare and for a moment she believes she is dreaming.

Then a happy moan escapes her and she takes another bite, lips curling into a big smile.

“It’s delicious!” she exclaims, mouth full, and hears Solas chuckle-snort at her side. “ _Lethallin_ , it’s so good! I never thought chocolate could be this good! And this thing inside, I wonder what it is!”

She squints her eyes, studying each layer in the last remaining part, and Solas helps her.

“I believe it is whipped cream.”

“ _Ooooh_.” Scarlet observes it for more seconds, intrigued, then puts the last bite into her mouth, closing her eyes and munching it very, very slowly. She swallows it and sighs happily, reopening her eyes and watching the sky full of stars.

If she turns to look at Solas now, she will probably throw her arms around him and kiss him again.

But she _has_ to look at him to thank him in a decent manner. This has been important to her. It doesn’t matter that it was just eating frilly cakes and chocolate for the first time.

It has been important and he has been sweet and caring. What looked like the prelude to a bad day turned into a new memory filled with light and tenderness.

So she looks at him and sees he has finished eating too and has been staring at her for the whole time.

“Solas.” she starts, but stops when he raises his hand and rubs his thumb against a corner of her mouth.

He is so close she can see the faint trace of chocolate left on his lips, she can even count his freckles and see his long eyelashes. He is smiling again.

He smiled a lot today and she is so, so happy for that too.

“Thank you!” she blurts out when he slightly pulls away. “Not just for… for this!” She gestures at her face, then tries to continue, but fails and sighs frustrated. She takes a deep breath and starts again:

“I mean… Thank you for everything! For this day! I enjoyed it a lot and the cake was delicious, it was the best thing I have ever eaten and you have been so kind and I…”

She stops talking, too surprised and awestruck to do so, when he gently puts his hand behind her head and leans in to kiss her forehead.

It’s a tender kiss that sends warm tingles all down her face, up to her ears and neck, and she can only stare at his neck and broad shoulders, heart threatening to explode, until it ends.  

He pulls away, his expression soft, and she is sure he caresses her hair for a moment before lowering his hand… and resting it on her right one.

She gathers all the courage she has and timidly moves her thumb so that it lies on the back of his hand. The corners of his eyes rise and the laugh lines there shift as another smile blossoms on his face.

Scarlet smiles too and she would happily live the rest of her days like this, sitting on a bench with Solas and staring into his eyes, hand in hand.

The magic moment is broken by Varric and Cole calling them from afar.

“Oi, guys! Look what my ugly, _famous_ face let us get for free!”

The dwarf points at a huge book Cole is carrying; the spirit boy raises it, looking _overjoyed_ , and the two elves are able to see the beautiful drawing of a bunny on the cover.

“It looks lovely, Cole!” Scarlet exclaims once they are near and the boy gives her the book.

Solas has gotten up to see the other volume the bookseller has given Varric, so he doesn’t see Cole moving his face close to hers and whisper: “This day has been beautiful and important for him too. He will always cherish it.”

He smiles as Scarlet stares at him open-mouthed. “Also, he is happy you tasted your first frilly cake with him.”

She giggles and squeezes Cole’s hand, whispering a ‘thank you’ and giving him the book and hat back.

“I will complete the bunny as we travel back to Skyhold.” she says, showing him the outline of the animal. Cole’s eyes widen and shine with pure adoration at the sight of it.

Then she looks at Solas and he locks eyes with her, while Varric keeps complaining about the countless copies of _Hard in Hightown_ he had to sign.

He smiles at her and she smiles in return. Hope and love grow in her heart and the sweet taste of her first frilly cake linger in her mouth, together with the warmth of Solas’ lips on her forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those interested, here is [Scarlet!](http://lafaiette.tumblr.com/scarletlavellan)


	2. Hands

It happens so fast she barely has time to acknowledge it.

Solas smiles at her - and she miraculously manages to smile back without looking like a fool -, then his fingers brush against hers and the next thing she knows is that he is holding her hand.

In public, in front of everyone, as they explore the humid hills of Crestwood.

She touched his hands many times before, so she isn’t surprised to feel callouses and small scars on his palm caused by a life of journeys, battles, and Creators know what else. It’s also surprisingly soft and a bit sweaty.

She _loves_ it.

They are at the start of their relationship - to be honest, they became something “official” just a few _days_ ago, with that beautiful kiss on the balcony. Solas has started calling her _vhenan_ and Scarlet feels light like a cloud and joyful like she doesn’t know what every time she calls him that too.

The first time she used that term he blushed and looked at her with so much love she almost cried. She kissed him eagerly, before stumbling out of the rotunda to attend to some boring meeting with some boring nobles.

She thought about Solas’ tender look for the whole time, earning herself a glare from Josephine and Leliana’s stifled giggles as the nobles had to repeat their questions a third time.

Probably all Skyhold knows she and Solas are together by now. All her companions and advisors know and she didn’t miss the smirks of the agents, the servants whispering to each other every time she and Solas walked in the corridors together.

In these few days, Scarlet has realized he doesn’t mind public demonstrations of love, although he is definitely discreet. She saw Bull and Sera smooch their partners in front of everyone without battling an eye - _sometimes threatening to do more than smooching_ -, while she and Solas prefers to do most of their cuddling somewhere private.

Still, they kissed in front of other people too, both in Skyhold - causing some nobles and servants to gasp and giggle - and while traveling through Thedas, causing their companions to whistle and make witty comments.

Holding hands is slightly different, though: it lasts longer than a kiss and everyone can see them. It’s something that puts them apart from the rest of their friends, almost making both of them a single person through that touch. They walk and climb hills together, feeling each other’s fingers rub the back of their hand.

It’s an _intimate_ touch and Scarlet smiles - a goofy, red-cheeked smile - as they keep walking. She hopes they won’t meet enemies or wild, ferocious animals. She doesn’t want to let go of Solas’ hand yet.

She would hold it forever.

The road ahead is long and empty and if it stops being like that soon, then she will make it even longer somehow, just to extend this blissful moment.

Dorian and Bull are ahead, talking about the improved weather and the wyverns they encountered the last time they visited Crestwood. Bull is excited at the idea of seeing this infamous dragon, which seems to live in some abandoned ruins in a field. Dorian sounds way less happy.

“Do we really have to do this today, my friend?” he groans, turning back to pout at Scarlet, then his eyes go wide at the sight of her and Solas walking hand in hand. Her smile gets bigger and she proudly squeezes Solas’ hand.

“Come on, it’ll be fun! Right, boss? _Ohhhh_!” Bull’s eye glints amusedly just like his grin. “We are getting all cute and mushy, I see!”

“We have all the reasons to be.” Solas smiles serenely, his thumb a comfortable presence on Scarlet’s chapped knuckles.

She sees his smile grow when Bull laughs and winks at them - surprisingly, he can make people understand whether he is winking or simply blinking, it’s one of his talents - and her heart soars.

Corypheus could appear in a puff of smoke right in front of her eyes in this very moment and she would just kick him in the face and keeps walking, preferably over his body, without even looking away from Solas. That’s how happy she is.

“According to the people of Crestwood, the dragon shouldn’t live far from here.” she says, turning to Dorian who is still looking at them in that weird manner. “We need to deal with it. It could damage everything we accomplished to build here so far.”

Dorian clears his throat and nods, turning back to the road ahead and ignoring most of Bull’s jokes and comments.

A soothing warmth radiates from Solas’ hand to hers and Scarlet looks down with raised eyebrows. A familiar blue glow - one she recognizes as healing magic - is enveloping their hands.

Her chapped knuckles don’t sting anymore and the little cuts on her fingers caused by her daggers and her wild fighting style slowly disappear, her flesh soft and pink.

“Oh!” she exclaims, cheeks burning hotter. She quickly raises her head, smiling. “Thank you…!”

Solas’ lips bump  roughly against her nose, an awkward kiss that was meant for her forehead instead, but that her frantic gesture caused it to land elsewhere.

“Sorry!” he says, concern and embarrassment on his freckled face as she scrunches hers and wiggles her nose. “Are you alright, _vhenan_?”

She answers with a full smooch on his mouth, like he intended to do. The sound is loud, so much she feels her face flush red and sees Solas’ ears get quite pink.

Bull bursts into a booming laughter, up ahead.

“I heard that!” he shouts without even turning back. “Don’t do anything nasty back there, kids!”

“Kids?” Solas sniffs indignantly and the Qunari laughs again, before start humming the Chargers’ song.

Solas’ hand is warm. It’s slightly sweaty and Scarlet knows hers is sweating too, so she hopes he won’t notice it too much, thinking it’s his own body. Although he might panic, believe all that sweat is his, and then might let her hand go…

Should she rub her palm on her pants and then give her hand back to him? No, he might think she did that because of him. Should she refrain from moving it too much?

Why is holding hands suddenly so _hard_?

Solas looks less worried and smiles and jokes, telling her about the dreams he saw during his nap this morning and listening intently to her when she tells him about the forests her clan used to live in.

It almost feels like a date, one where there are no dragons lurking in abandoned ruins, demons coming out of holes in the air, and bandits waiting for innocents to rob and kill.

The rain has stopped and although the ground, grass, and wind are still wet and cold, everything is progressively turning warmer and brighter and she can see how much beauty Crestwood can possess.

They walk through a narrow path between two walls of rock; to their right, a system of caves dug in the hard stone. Spiders screech in the distance and she tenses up, both to prepare to fight and force herself not to be afraid of them. Her free hand reaches for one of her daggers.

Solas’ hand squeezes hers and his shoulder brushes against hers, a comforting gesture that helps her relax. The screeches continue and Dorian curses in Tevene, but nothing comes towards them.

A heartbeat of silence passes, then Bull lowers his sword and whistles.

“Fuckers got scared.”

A relieved sigh escapes Scarlet - relieved not just because they didn’t have to deal with the spiders, but also because she and Solas can still hold hands.

His lips reach safely her cheek.

He is holding her right hand. She noticed he always makes sure to hold that one and not her left one, the one where the Anchor is. At first she thought the Mark burned him, but other people - like Dorian and Cole - grasped it without problems, so that couldn’t be it.

He touches it only when the Anchor hurts her. During the evenings where it seems like it is rejecting her entirely and it burns her skin and itches terribly, Solas takes her left hand - gently, as if it was made of glass - and whispers elven words she cannot understand, soft murmurs that dim the green light erupting from her flesh. He caresses the scar with his fingertips and his face is so very sad.

She asked him about it just a few nights ago and he got even sadder.

“Does it bother you?” she asked, like he was the one whose skin and entire arm were on fire. He shook his head and for a moment she thought his eyes were full of tears.

“No, _ma vhenan_.” he murmured. “I am scared of it.”

She didn’t ask more - he looked terribly upset -, although she could imagine why he was scared of the Anchor. She is too, even after all this time spent having it embedded into her hand, and she knows it isn’t always a good sight, especially when it flares up like that.

Solas is one of the few who witnessed the dormant restlessness of the Mark and now that they are together, now that she knows he loves her, she understands why he answered like that.

Right hand it is then! She learned that he can spend hours kissing and nuzzling it, kissing each fingertip with tender adoration and nip her palm and wrist in a playful, roguish way that makes warm tingles run all over her body, down to her groin.

She loves his hands too: they are quite broad, bigger than hers, rough and soft at the same time, with tiny cuts on his fingertips caused by the many pages he flips every day. Heavy callouses formed where he holds his staff tighter and his nails are very short: she caught him eating them one day and soon learned he does it when he is hungry or busy with a difficult subject.

 _‘Adorable’_ , she called him that day, and he chuckled, ears pink just like now.

She steals another quick kiss, not as loud as the previous one, but their companions hear it all the same: Bull snickers and Dorian shoots them a smile from above his shoulder.

He still looks rather strange, though, and Scarlet worries: is he feeling unwell? Is he tired? Does the cold air of Ferelden affect him badly?

They have been walking - and occasionally fighting Red Templars - since this morning; she can see how stiff Solas’ legs are, meaning that his knees hurt again and he can’t bend them too much; Bull shifts his weight from one shoulder to the other, indicating that his back still hurts after that bad hit he received from a Behemoth.

Dorian’s back is slightly hunched, something that rarely happens, and Scarlet can feel weariness and fatigue wear her down too. She looks at the sky, which is slowly turning orange and violet, and calls a halt.

“Noooo!” Bull whines, almost stomping his foot. “Boss, it’s not far, I can feel it!”

“Actually, it is still _quite_ far.” she corrects him, looking at the map with a raised eyebrow. She keeps it tied to her back, always ready to be opened, so she is still holding hands with Solas.

Caer Bronach is visible in the distance, its already lit fires and lights a familiar sight that reminds her of Skyhold, of what became a second home for them all.

“We will sleep there for the night.” she says, nodding at the stronghold. “We will rest, repair our equipment, and see if our agents need anything. Then, first thing in the morning, we will go deal with that High Dragon.”

Bull narrows his eye and asks in a low, suspicious tone: “Promise?”

She solemnly raises her chin.

“You have my word as Inquisitor.”

Bull’s frown turns into a toothy (blood-splattered) grin and he quickly turns around, heading towards the fortress with admirable speed.

“I hope they prepared soup. It doesn’t matter what kind.” Dorian grumbles, tightening his long robes around his body to shield himself from the wind and speeding up. “I would even eat that disgusting spinach broth Varric makes as long as it’s hot.”

Solas turns to her with a smile and chuckles softly.

“That was a good idea, _emma lath_. We all need rest.” he says. He grimaces when the roads starts to go up a slope. “I fear this humidity is not good for my legs.”

Scarlet’s heart races up. She has a soothing balm in her pack, kept in a wooden jar decorated with Dalish painted motifs, one of the few things she brought from her clan.

The content of that precious jar have changed many times in the past months: right now, there is a special unguent in it, perfect to soothe aches of any kind and frozen limbs. Leliana gave it to her, a gift to fight the freezing weather of Emprise du Lion and win over the pain of twisted ankles, tired legs, and swollen feet.

She could offer it to Solas. She _wants_ to, but she also wants to be the one to spread it on his legs and part of her - the same part that sends those warm tingles down her groin when he looks at her with playful eyes - is making her feel and think things she never felt and thought before.

She knows that spreading it on his legs would be a very _intimate_ thing to do together. Something much more intense than holding hands, a gesture with a deeper, bigger meaning. An innuendo of sort, a message, and she isn’t exactly sure what kind of message that would be and how he would interpret it.

Also, to see his legs, she should ask him to remove his pants. _That_ would be a clear message and she can’t even think of the right words to offer him her jar, let alone the ones to ask him to pull down his pants so she can apply a cream on his body.

She bites her lips, feeling her face get so red it’s probably the same color as her hair. She wonders how Solas’ legs look like - toned, no doubt, judging by what she can see every day - and her grip on his hand tightens so much he makes a surprised sound.

“ _Ma vhenan_?” he asks, brow knitted in worry, and she blurts out, speaking loud and too fast: “A jar! There is a jar in my pack!”

Her voice becomes an embarrassed murmur when she sees his surprise, caused by her sudden outburst: “It’s… It’s a soothing balm. It may help you.”

She looks away, cursing her stupid panic, and doesn’t see Solas smile. She feels his lips against her cheek again, though, and hears his voice in her ear as he whispers: “Thank you, _vhenan_.”

She moves closer to him and smiles at the ground, squeezing his hand and feeling thrilled at the idea of being able to do so.

When they reach Caer Bronach, she gives it a final squeeze and begrudgingly lets it go, knowing she has to look professional in front of her soldiers… although she doubts they would care about something like that.

The agents greet them with enthusiasm. The fortress has been reinforced, its defenses improved, its rooms cleaned and its supplies replenished, and the agents face the harsh and raw life of Crestwood with passion and fierceness.

Charter informs Scarlet of the last news and requisitions with her curt manners, then offers her and her companions the rooms inside the stronghold instead of the tents in the courtyard. Scarlet kindly refuses.

“Don’t move your men for a night only.” she says, shaking her head. “We will sleep in the tents and leave tomorrow at dawn. We are used to it, we do it all the time, so don’t worry.” She smiles, nodding at Dorian who is glaring at her, unable to believe what he is hearing. “We will gladly accept something hot and hearty to eat, though.”

“Of course, Inquisitor. There should still be some good soup on the fire.” Then Charter’s face changes and she gives her and Solas an odd look and amused smirk. “I hope you enjoyed the trip.”

Scarlet babbles an affirmative answer, then nearly runs to the space where the tents have been raised.

Two agents are there, stirring the soup Charter mentioned. They help her and the others put their packs away, before leaving with their weapons to sharpen them for the upcoming fight against the dragon.

They arrived during a busy time: everyone has something to fix, write, read and all the agents know better than bother the weary Inquisitor and her friends. They also seem to know about her and Solas, because she often catches them staring at them from afar, like curious children gossiping about their favorite person.

“Why did you refuse the rooms?” Dorian whines, lifting the heavy blanket covering his shoulders up to his head. His hands cradle a bowl of steaming soup like it’s the most precious thing in the world - it probably is, right now.

Bull has already eaten his - bigger than theirs - and is pouring himself a second one.

“These soldiers deserve them more than us.” Scarlet replies, nudging her friend’s s leg with her foot. “Once our business here is over, we can go back to Skyhold and relax in a safe, rich place. They can’t do that. They always stay here, fighting and working almost every day.”

“You say that like we do nothing every day, boss!” Bull exclaims, huffing when Dorian shoots him a pointed look and flatly replies: “But you _do_ nothing, Bull. You sit at the tavern all day.”

“I train the Chargers there!”

“To drink and eat better, I bet.” Solas intervenes, smiling at his soup. He chuckles when Bull grumbles and turns his back to them and the fire.

The dinner proceeds with amicable banters and jokes. Bull manages to make them even when he pretends to be “awfully offended” and Dorian’s cheerful mood comes back once his belly is full of warm food.

Scarlet has scooted closer to Solas every few minutes, trying to be discreet, but in the end he realizes what she wants to do and gently grabs her arm, pulls her close to him, shoulder against shoulder, and drapes part of his blanket over her.

“Aw!” Bull purrs, fluttering the eyelashes of his only eye. “Cutest thing I’ve seen all day!”

They speak of the best way to deal with the dragon and listen to Bull’s stories, then Dorian shares a few details about Tevinter architecture; finally Solas reminds them all to prepare for any elemental magic the dragon will throw at them, offering advice and suggestions.

Scarlet recommends to check their armors tomorrow morning before leaving. They are not heavily damaged and the blacksmith of Caer Bronach can take care of them in a few minutes, but even the smallest dent on their chainmail can be dangerous. 

She says so with her head resting on Solas’ shoulder and their hands joined again.

They keep talking for almost an hour, until Bull yawns and mumbles something about ‘bed’. Solas seems to agree greatly with him, his eyes and back heavy, his words slightly slurred when he announces he is going to sleep too.

Scarlet runs into the tent she is going to share with Dorian to retrieve the soothing balm.

She and Solas haven’t started sleeping together yet: that’s another message she doesn’t know how to send, a request to share a bed together that stops on her quivering lips every night, when he accompanies her to her quarters, kisses her on the door, and then leaves.

He might think she wants to do… _that_. And she wants to do that too, she can’t deny it: the idea of Solas’ hands caressing her body in ways she can’t even imagine sparks a fire in her heart and belly.

But she also doesn’t want to hurry, to frighten him, and she is terribly, completely inexperienced, and she wants to be good, to make that special occasion beautiful and pleasurable.

So she still refrains from asking him to simply sleep together. She has to think of a way to word decently that request without creating misunderstandings and her stupid mouth always tends to speak too fast and loud when she is anxious and overwhelmed by her emotions.

She gets out of the tent, the jar in her hands, and wonders how he looks like when he sleeps. Does he drool? Does he snore? She bets he does a little and when she pictures him sleeping with his mouth open, drooling against her shoulder, she can’t help but giggle.

“Something funny, _emma lath_?” he asks with a smirk.

“Nothing.” she snorts, looking away with a hand pressed on her mouth. “I just… I just tried to imagine you snoring.”

He makes an indignant sound, but she knows he is playing along. He straightens his back and replies solemnly, as if the mere concept of him making unflattering sounds while sleeping was preposterous.

“I can assure, _vhenan_ , I do not snore.”

“How do you know that?” she gets playful too, smiling smugly at him. “If you sleep, you can’t possibly be aware of your snoring!”

A moment passes, then a small shadow of doubt passes over Solas’ face and he grunts, blushing.

“I do not snore.” he insists stubbornly and Scarlet giggles again. She looks down at the jar in her hands for a moment and when she raises her head again, Solas is closer, his face a few inches from hers.

There is a smile on his lips, the same roguish smile he gives her when he nips her fingers and kisses her wrist.

“Does the sound of snoring bother you, _vhenan_?”

She has to catch her breath: he is so close and that look is making her legs feel like molten wax and his eyes are so beautiful and…

“No.” she manages to say, very softly, in the end. “Many people in my clan snore a lot.”

“I see.” Solas’ lips are so close now that she just has to crane her neck a little to kiss them. His gaze is intense, blue-gray eyes locked with her golden ones. She feels his fingertips trace her jaw, the touch nearly tickling her skin.

She is about to close her eyes, sure he is going to kiss her… and he _does_ kiss her, but not on her lips, but on her nose instead.

A cute, sweet boop that leaves her blinking up at his smiling face.

“Is that the soothing balm?” he asks, pointing at the jar, and she blinks at him, still lost in that magic that his _whole being_ is for a few more seconds, before snapping out of it and nodding.

“Yes! Here.” She gives him the jar and he takes it slowly, his broad hands and long fingers brushing against hers.

“Apply it on your knees with circular movements.” she says, fidgeting. “Make sure the skin absorbs it all! Use it tomorrow morning too, so your legs won’t hurt again during our trip to the dragon’s lair.”

He raises his eyes from the jar he has been studying attentively and sets them on her, his smile softer and sweeter.

“Thank you.” he says. He sounds nearly emotional, so much he clears his throat and looks back at the jar when she beams at him. “This is quite beautiful.”

“It’s from my clan. My father made it.”

“I can give it to you right now, if you want.” Solas hurries to say, panic flashing in his eyes. “I can go apply the balsam now and…”

“Don’t be silly! Take it.” She pushes the lovely thing back into his hands, smiling. “And remember to let the skin absorb the cream.”

Solas hesitates and even though he was cradling the jar with great care before, now he is practically shielding it from the air itself.

“Alright, then.” he smiles, then gasps in surprise and pleasure when Scarlet presses a full kiss on his lips. One of his hands moves to the back of her head and he deepens the kiss, smiling when she slightly opens her mouth and a tiny sound escapes her.

“Will you visit me in the Fade?” she whispers against his lips as they break the kiss.

His eyes shine beautifully and that intense look from before comes back: there are joy and pride in it, pride for _her_ , an immense admiration and even gratefulness. She asks him that basically every night, it’s starting to become a sort of ritual for them, and every time Solas is pleasantly surprised and so, so happy.

“Always.” he answers like he always does. He kisses her again. “Goodnight, my heart.”

“Goodnight, _vhenan_.”

He blushes and the cute wrinkles and laugh lines near his eyes deepen when he smiles, looking even happier than before. He nearly stumbles into the tent, letting out a curse in Elven, then looks back at her one last time, cheeks redder.

She waves at him and he nods, before closing the flap of the tent. Bull is already snoring inside.

Scarlet sighs happily, sure that she would feel so warm and tingly even if she wasn’t so near the fire. Something doesn’t feel right, though, so she looks away from Solas’ tent to understand why this sudden silence fell.

She almost yelps when she sees a great majority of the agents of Caer Bronach staring at her. They have probably witnessed her entire conversation with Solas and only when she notices their attention, they quickly go back to work, pretending they didn’t see anything.

She retreats into her tent, careful not to step on Dorian.

He is still awake, staring at the heavy clothed roof with a blank face. He grins when he sees her enter so quickly and flustered.

“Did the entire fortress see you and Solas kiss and be adorable together?”

Scarlet replies with a timid affirmative sound and he laughs, respectfully looking away when she starts to take off her long coat and outer shirt.

“Are you feeling better?” she asks, throwing her boots in a corner of the tent. “You looked exhausted.”

“I am fine, my friend.” Dorian smiles, but she can see he wants to say something else. She adjusts the blanket and pillow of her bedroll and slips into it, poking his arm with her index finger to make him look at her.

He does and his smile comes back, a bit strained. Scarlet frowns, worried.

“Dorian, what’s wrong?”

His face falls slowly and he sighs, playing with the frayed hem of his blanket and refusing to answer.

Scarlet pokes his cheek, even making a ‘booping’ sound, and he swats her hand, snorting.

“Alright, alright!” He turns to his side to see her better and for a second he looks younger, almost like a child who has to ask something embarrassing.

“What is it like holding hands in public?”

Scarlet, too surprised by that question she wasn’t expecting, hesitates a second and that second is enough for Dorian to panic and continue: “I mean… In front of everyone, where people can see you.” He looks at the cold ground a few inches from their faces, his eyes not sad, but definitely melancholic.

“It’s… ah, rare for two men to do that in Tevinter. It is greatly frowned upon and few people actually have the courage to do it.”

He traces the patterns on the floor of the courtyard with a finger; the rings he decided to wear for this trip glow in the dark like little wisps or fireflies.

Scarlet’s heart is beating fast and hard, so much her chest almost aches.

“Oh Dorian, forgive me!” she says, propping herself on her elbow, staring at him with wide, guilty eyes. He looks at her with equally wide eyes, but there is only surprise in them. She doesn’t see it, too worried about having bothered him.

“I didn’t think… I didn’t want to…!” She sighs and flops back onto the bedroll. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“ _Upset_ me?” he laughs, more surprised with each passing second. “What are you talking about? You and Solas didn’t upset me!”

“But…”

“I was merely curious.” He pokes her forehead, grinning. “In fact, I _demand_ to see you and your beloved spend more time like that. It is sweet and this world needs more sweetness.” He makes a funny face, wrinkling his nose and mustache. “Especially this Maker-forsaken place they call Crestwood.”

She laughs with him, but turns serious soon, still thinking about his question and the meaning it holds for him.

“It’s beautiful.” she starts and Dorian’s eyes lighten up, attentive. “You feel even closer to each other and you walk as one. You show everyone you are together, that you love each other, and feel stronger and safe.”

She smiles looking at her right hand, remembering Solas’ touch and their walk to Caer Bronach.

“You feel like you belong here, in this world, with the person you love. Like two pieces of a puzzle that match perfectly.”

She raises her eyes and sees Dorian smiling at her. He looks touched.

“That sounds beautiful indeed.” he says, starting to play with a pebble laying near his bedroll. Scarlet tugs at the sleeve of his shirt - made of well-crafted Samite - and he swats her hand again, not to push it away, but to let her know he doesn’t mind and she can keep grasping his clothes.

So she does. She knows him too well by now.

She pinches the fabric between two fingers and says: “This is not Tevinter, Dorian. You don’t have to be afraid of holding hands here.”

She smiles, lets his sleeve go, and moves her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it. He is still looking at the pebble, but she knows he is listening to her.

“Also, you want to redeem your country, right? This can be one of the many changes you can make.”

Dorian’s eyes move back to her and his lips curl into a big smile, which Scarlet returns.

“I guess I just have to find someone to call ‘my heart’ now.” he says nonchalantly, scratching his cheek. Stubble is starting to grow there and he grimaces. “Possibly when I will look like a decent, clean person again and not some wild beast.”

“I am sure you will find him. Even with all those hairs on your face.” she kisses his forehead and slips further under her blanket. Dorian looks horrified.

“Are they that many?!”

She snickers - “Goodnight, Dorian.” - and gives his sleeve one last tug before pulling her hand back inside the warm cocoon she is sleeping into. He tries to swat it again, but she is too fast.

“You are cruel. Cruel and wicked.” Dorian sniffles. He moves his bedroll closer to hers, though.

He waits a few seconds, their silence heavy with trepidation, then he asks curious: “Don’t hands start to sweat a lot after holding them for a long time?”

Scarlet gasps and her head springs up from under the blanket.

“Creators, yes!”

They don’t really sleep that much. They spend the whole night talking about the magic and intriguing wonders of holding hands, discussing about the best way to make it a good, not-too-much-humid experience.

Morning comes too soon and they leave their tent with bleary eyes, throbbing heads, but bright smiles.

Solas and Bull are waiting for them in front of the fire, breakfast ready in the pot above the fire.

Solas smiles at her with a cheerful “Good morning, _vhenan_ ” and she sits next to him, taking his hand and giving him the first kiss of the day.

“Good morning.” she says with a grin, remembering their meeting in the Fade last night.

He hands her the jar with gentleness and care and presses a sweet peck on her cheek.

“Thank you. It helped me greatly.”

“Oh! I am glad!” She giggles. “It smells bad, though, doesn’t it?”

Solas chuckles. “A little bit, perhaps.”

Bull and Dorian are singing the Chargers’ song, their well-timed voices filling the courtyard with mirth. Some agents stop to watch the scene, others hum the tune under their breath once they learn it.

“I am sorry for finding you so late in the Fade, _vhenan_.” Solas whispers, lips pressed on her cheek. Then he pulls back and studies her face intently, brow furrowed in concern. “Did you have difficulty in falling asleep?”

“No, no. Dorian and I just talked a lot.” She looks at their companions, now sitting arm in arm to dance at the rhythm of the next stanza. She laughs. “About something very important, in fact.”

Solas tilts his head, curious, and she kisses his chin, blushing when he entwines their fingers together.

“We talked about hands.” She sees his surprise and amusement and pecks his nose, just like he did last night at dinner. “I love yours a lot, _ma vhenan_.”

He blushes, a smile on his full lips, and babbles an endearing, cute, adorable ‘thank you’. It’s like he has never been complimented in his life - or doesn’t expect anyone to do so - and she swore to make sure to always compliment him in some way or another every day.

Bull and Dorian reaches the last verse of the song and get up, still arm in arm and swaying side to side. They are both having fun, but there is a sort of special excitement on Dorian’s face, a great relief for something he has been clearly holding in for some time.

“Should we start eating breakfast while they do their thing?” Scarlet asks with a grin and Solas surprises her, getting up with his hand still gripping tightly hers.

“Splendid idea, _vhenan_.” he says, leaning in to brush his mouth against hers. That playful, beautiful smile is back on his kind face and Scarlet laughs, squeezing his hand with all the love in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My blood is made of liquid fluff ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	3. Sleep

They stay up until late again.

It has become a habit of theirs: spending the first quiet, eerie hours of the night in the rotunda, discussing history and magic, or in the vault library, surrounded by dusty books and forgotten knowledge.

There is so much to do, much to learn and see, but being Inquisitor requires time and effort for different matters, although much of what they study together ends up being important during meetings and trips around Thedas too.

Wisdom and knowledge, Solas said, rarely prove to be useless.

And Thedas is so _big_ and Scarlet feels so _small_ that she looks forward to their time together every night, carrying big books to their place of meeting while Solas collects new ones or interesting researches for them to read.

She looks forward to it for another reason too.

These hours are not just for reading and studying; these moments spent together are _dates_ \- no matter how much Dorian jokes about the quality of them - and she and Solas laugh, joke, kiss, and cuddle while discovering more about their world and sharing memories.

Each of those hours is bliss. It’s a hand on her waist, it’s her lips on his cheek, it’s his mouth whispering romantic things in her ear, it’s her arms around his neck and their laughter echoing in the room.

One of the first nights she panicked and apologized for having kept him awake until so late, far from the Fade.

His reaction still warms her heart. He blinked, surprised by her words, then promptly grabbed her wrist before she could leave the rotunda.

“Silly girl. I much prefer your company.” he said, smiling, and there was awe on his face, a sudden realization that made her cheeks burn too. “Now come back here, _vhenan_ , and let me see how these Dalish leather bracelets are woven.”

She happily obliged and the memory of Solas asking question after question about that simple accessory is one of her favorites. Despite his misunderstandings with the Dalish, he is curious about their traditions and customs. He wants to know and try _everything_.

She is sure she asks even more questions, though. His knowledge seems endless, vast like the sky, reaching in every corner of the world. A richness found in the Fade, where they continue their dates and their lessons, although with much less books and many more spirits and landscapes recreated in front of their eyes.

Tonight is no different. They check the sky outside and see no clouds; almost two hours have passed since midnight and even though the next day is going to be rather dull, devoid of any particularly bothersome meeting or dangerous mission, their life is always hectic and they need all the rest they can get.

They know this, but it still doesn’t stop them from going into the empty garden and laying down on the grass, watching the stars while cuddling and sharing kisses.

“Tell me another memory of the Fade.” Scarlet says, nestling against his side as his hand on her waist rubs the tender skin under her shirt.

He smiles, turning his head to look at her, and she seizes the occasion to kiss him again. She can’t stop doing it and he chuckles, licking her lips, eager to taste her for the umpteenth time.

“Which one would you like to hear?” he asks, his voice lilting and humming, a beautiful sound carried by the comfy silence around them. He kisses her nose, a sweet gesture he does often, and his other hand takes her right one, moving it from his chest to his mouth to kiss it.

“The one I found in a cave hidden in a forgotten valley? The one I saw in the outskirts of the Brecilian Forest?” Each question is followed by a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Or perhaps you prefer the one the spirits recreated in an abandoned farmland in the Dales?”

She laughs when his lips touch her forehead and she traces his nose with her index finger.

“Start with your favorite.” she says and he grins, makes sure the spell he used to warm the grass beneath them is still working, then starts.

The memory - he chose the one from the Brecilian Forest - is beautiful and intriguing, but it’s so late and they have done so much today that they can’t just keep their eyes open.

Usually, when this happens, they force themselves to get up from wherever they are sitting or lying on and go to their respective rooms. But tonight the garden is too quiet and comfortable and Scarlet finds herself dozing off after a few minutes.

Solas starts yawning too and that part of her that is still awake thinks with excitement and trepidation mixed together that they are going to sleep together for the first time.

She imagined it a bit differently: up in her quarters, cozy and warm under the heavy blankets, but the garden is perfect too. Any place is perfect, as long as Solas is there, holding her in his arms.

She smiles, rubbing her face against his shoulder, and forces her eyes to stay open: Solas is mumbling slurred words, trying to stay awake to continue describing the memory, but he is already half-asleep and his head drops slowly until it bumps against hers and he falls silent.

He looks _so cute_.

His mouth is slightly open, saliva glistening on a corner of it; a deep sound is coming out of his throat, building over time, but it’s not exactly a snore, not yet. His chin is slightly squashed because of his position and she giggles, leaning her face close to kiss him.

He wakes up abruptly, causing her to gasp and draw back. He looks around frantically, blinking fast, then focuses on her and smiles sleepily.

“We should go to bed, _emma lath_. The night is getting colder and I do not want you to catch an illness.”

Scarlet nods and agrees, not wanting him to be uncomfortable either, but she feels a pang of disappointment too. They have been together for some weeks now and she still hasn’t gathered the courage to ask him to share a bed.

That’s what couples do, right? Things in her clan were a bit different: she saw and knew that new couples usually waited until their bonding ceremony to sleep in the same aravel. Other _activities_ were done outside the camp, but those rarely ended in a full night rest in each other’s arms, since the forests and fields could be dangerous at night.

She also heard that from some of her clan-mates who were getting married soon. They still didn’t know how their betrothed slept, whether he moved a lot during the night or not.

“I hope he doesn’t snore!” she remembers one of those girls saying and she laughed too, but then thought that a husband’s or wife’s noises should be welcomed and appreciated by their mate.

She and Solas joked about snoring just last week, while in Crestwood. She wouldn’t really mind if he snored a lot. He probably snorts too and that would make him even more endearing.

She groans softly while folding the blanket they brought.

 _‘You can’t already think about marriage!’_ she scolds herself, avoiding Solas’ eyes at all costs. He would notice immediately something is off. _‘Take it easy and slow and everything will be fine.’_

Solas _is_ observant, though, and his hand is soon resting on the small of her back while his mouth brushes against her cheek.

“ _Vhenan’ara_.” he whispers. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing!” she exclaims and tries not to babble - she really does -, but she is unable to stay calm whenever Solas and his voice are so close to her.

She can be neat and collected when dealing with Inquisition matters, but Solas is a completely different thing. She becomes clumsy and awkward and panic rises in her every time she fears she did something wrong or stupid.

“Nothing is wrong!” she insists, beaming at him and stealing a quick kiss. “Come on, let’s go to bed!”

They stop by the rotunda to put the blanket back on the couch, then head to the tower reserved to the guest rooms and sleeping quarters. Scarlet’s rooms are on top and Solas accompanies her, like he does every night.

He stops at the door, their hands still joined, and their conversation - revolving around the raw beauty of the Western Approach - comes to an end, turning into timid silence and those lingering looks Vivienne mentioned.

Scarlet takes her time, back turned to the still closed door, refusing to let go of Solas’ hand. He smiles at her, comes closer, and rests his forehead against her, looking into her eyes.

“Goodnight, my heart.” he says, his voice soft, his hot breath ghosting over her lips. She slides her arm around his waist and kisses him eagerly, even opening his mouth to taste him better.

He chuckles and retaliates by squeezing her butt; she yelps in surprise and the lines around his eyes crinkle as he smiles innocently.

“You are terrible.” she grumbles, a smile already forming on her reddened lips, and he raises his eyebrows, pretending not to know what she is talking about. He tries to pinch her butt again, but she is faster and dodges his hand.

“Stop it!” she laughs and his next attempts to pinch her end with her back pressed against the door and his mouth peppering kisses all over her face.

Their laughter echoes in the huge stairwell, probably reaching the rooms below; at some point, Scarlet even slides down the door when Solas’ mouth starts to tickle her and he follows her, unrelenting, chuckling against her neck as he kisses and tickles her there.

“Alright!” she gasps and cackles at the same time, tears of mirth shining in her eyes. “Alright, I yield, I yield!”

Solas stops, not before pressing one last kiss on her nose, and she giggles, admiring his flushed cheeks and heaving chest. She is basically resting down on the floor now, Solas on top of her, and she slowly comes to realize how… _particular_ their position is.

Not that she minds. Actually, she likes it a lot.

Solas is looking at her in a different way now: tender and thoughtful, his beautiful eyes framed by long eyelashes locked with hers. He doesn’t move, looking for something on her face. Or maybe he already found it and wants to admire it more.

She knows he will pull away soon, though. He always makes sure she is comfortable and at ease and he probably thinks this position is embarrassing her or making her uncomfortable.

He doesn’t look upset or embarrassed; on the contrary, he looks like he doesn’t want to draw away and conflicted feelings can be seen flashing in his eyes. He presses harder his hand on her waist, without hurting her, and his other hand near her hair begins to play with one red lock, twirling it between his fingers.

This silence that suddenly fell isn’t awkward: they are focusing on each other, deeply concentrated, and there is _something_ lingering in the air together with this quietness, as if both the waking world and the Fade are waiting for a certain event to happen, for a special situation to trigger and unfold.

Scarlet has a vague idea of what that might be, but she doesn’t want to hurry things up and scare Solas. She isn’t even sure she is ready for _that_ yet.

But sharing a bed… that sounds magnificent and she hopes that won’t be too much either. What is the right way to invite him in her room for the night without causing misunderstandings? How can she do that when she continuously panics and ruins every good word her mind prepares in advance?

Slowly and quietly, she kisses his jaw and wraps her arms around him, pulling him closer until his chest is pressed against hers. A surprised sound escapes him, but he eagerly kisses her back and she moans as his tongue touches hers.

They never kissed in this position before. It’s new, it makes her think about things she read in some of the books she found in the Inquisition library, things she heard from her parents and the Keeper, things she vaguely glimpsed in the clan, distant figures kissing like this hidden in the bushes and tall grass.

She knows where this can lead to, so she stops before things get too much for both of them. Or at least, she tries to stop, but the kiss is so pleasant and beautiful and Solas is so gentle and warm, she doesn’t find the strength within herself to pull away.

He hums, a low sound coming from his throat, and his hand on her waist moves upward. They break the kiss only for a second to breathe, then his mouth finds hers again and Scarlet whimpers happily, thrusting up instinctively.

Her hips roll against his and Solas lets out that surprised noise again; she rubs her hands up and down his back and feels his jawbone pendant pressed against her breasts, its weight and shape a comforting and familiar presence.

Then she feels something else too, pressed on her thigh. She frowns, trying to understand what it is, and hears Solas murmurs endearments as he kisses her face again. She opens her eyes completely and sees his red cheeks, slightly sweaty forehead and reddened lips.

They are both panting and Scarlet can’t stop bucking into him, albeit she is able to refrain herself and do it slowly, discreetly. She cradles Solas’ face in her hands, pecking his lips, and moves a leg to understand what that hard thing bumping against her thigh is.

Solas gasps, his eyes widen, and he scrambles back on his feet, his face redder than her hair.

He fixes his wrinkled clothes, in particular the longer part of his sweater covering his groin, then stares at her with big eyes as she sits up.

She punctually panics, afraid of having done something wrong, but before she can apologize, he moves fast as lightning and takes her hand, helping her get up.

“I apologize.” he says quickly, tense like a statue. “That… that was hardly decorous. I shouldn’t have done it.”

“I loved it.” Scarlet admits softly, hoping to reassure him. She still feels dizzy and that bold part of her that started growing since she is together with Solas wants to go back to the floor and smooch him until dawn comes.

She hopes he won’t mind her sincerity. He doesn’t, because he softens, relaxes a bit, and his hand squeezes hers as she looks down at them.

“You deserve more than being sloppily kissed on some old, dusty stairs, _vhenan_.”

She smiles, looking at him from behind her long eyelashes, and can see and feel how affected both of them still are; her heart is a thundering sound in her ears and Solas’ face is still tinted with a cute hue of pink reaching up to his ears and bald head.

“I didn’t mind it.” she insists, looking down again, her smile broadening. “It was very pleasant.”

He clears his throat and shifts his weight from one foot to another. He is standing with his legs quite sprained, Scarlet notices, as if he is hurting somewhere.

When she looks at his face, she sees two glowing red spots on his cheeks and he is staring at their joined hands too, refusing to meet her eyes.

“Solas.” she calls, suddenly worried. “Is everything alright?”

Did she offend him? Did she exaggerate? Is he embarrassed because of what she said?

But he smiles when he looks back at her and there is no embarrassment in his eyes as he replies: “Of course, _ma vhenan_.”

He brings her hand to his mouth and kisses her bruised knuckles, frowning when he sees them like that. He uses healing magic on them, a wave of blue light that heal her skin and make the slight discomfort go away.

“There.” he smiles. “All better.”

She laughs and kisses him, a quick smooch that seems to steal his breath away. He tenses up again and anchors his feet on the ground. His pose is a little odd and Scarlet wonders if he hurt himself while they were laying on the floor.

There were some _hard_ stones on it, after all, she felt one. Maybe he hit it with his knee or foot?

She doesn’t have the chance to ask him, because he looks at the door, then at her again and adds: “It is getting late, my heart. You should go to sleep.”

She hesitates, not wanting to say goodbye, even if only for a night. They will see each other in the Fade like always, but tonight the desire to stay in the same bed with him is stronger than ever.

She has no idea how to propose him this idea. She doesn’t want to upset him or make him think she wants… _that_ so soon.

But they are a couple now, right? They are _something_ and even though it’s a young, recent something, they can take small steps.

Perhaps they should just take a nap together on the couch before sleeping in bed? Is that how it works, what he would like more?

She bites her lips, looking at the door and feeling no desire to go to her too big rooms all alone, spending the night in that empty, cold bed. She wants to feel Solas’ body and warmth next to her, see how he sleeps, talk with him as they cuddle under the sheets, hug him from behind and be hugged in return.

 _Spoon_ is the word she is looking for, right?

And his chest! She wants to rest her head on his chest, wrap her arms around him and watch him fall asleep, discover how he sleeps.

She turns to Solas and opens her mouth to speak - she doesn’t even know what she is going to say, exactly -, but he kisses her in that right moment. She moves to hug him, but he is weirdly stiff and refuses to budge and let her come closer.

Their kiss is still intense and deep, though, and she gasps, eyes half-closed, when they pull away.

“Goodnight, _ma vhenan_.” Solas murmurs, cupping her cheek, and she babbles a reply, watching him smile and head to the stairs with her lips still tingling pleasantly.

Her mouth moves before she can stop it.

“Wait!”

He turns, alarm on his face, and she realizes she almost shouted, her voice still echoing in the stairwell.

“Umh…” She turns back to the door, then to him, fidgeting. “Would you…”

She looks down at her boots, barely seeing them. Her heart is beating so fast she can hear the rush of blood up to her head, which is almost spinning.

It’s such a simple, yet important question! Surely there must be a way not to upset him or look like a fool, right?

Perhaps a direct approach is the best. She should go straight to the point and be as clear as possible.

In the meantime, Solas has come back to her. He walks slowly, in a different way from before, but she can’t exactly pinpoint what the difference is. Maybe he really hurt himself while they were kissing on the floor.

 _‘Focus!’_ she scolds herself. _‘You are making him wait and it’s already late! He must be sleepy and tired, hurry up!’_

“Would you…” she tries again, raising her eyes to look at him. That complicates things, because Solas’ gaze is patient and kind and a gentle smile is tugging at his lips.

Scarlet takes a deep breath and blurts out: “Would you like to sleep with me?”

If he wasn’t so close right now, she would punch herself in the face and jump out of the nearest window.

Instead, she can only groan and hide her face behind her hand as she hears Solas’ sharp intake of breath and he stays still, as if hit by an ice spell.

She loses any kind of composure she had before and starts babbling again.

“I mean…! Just sleeping! Nothing else, like… uh…” She hopes her vague gestures will help him understand what she is talking about.

His only reaction is blinking and Scarlet feels the sudden urge to contact Corypheus and ask him to annihilate her.

_‘Not so dear Corypheus, would you please meet me somewhere and kill me for good? I just ruined a beautiful night with my boyfriend because of my stupid mouth.’_

If this is the mess she makes to simply ask him to sleep together, she doesn’t even dare to imagine how things will be if she ever gathers the courage to propose him… _that other thing_.

Still, she continues, both to reassure Solas and explain her idea to him, her reasoning.

“I thought we could talk before falling asleep and visiting the Fade in each other’s arms.” She twists the sleeves of her shirt, her nails digging into the brown threads on the edge. “Spend more time together and…”

She stops. Solas’ stunned expression hasn’t changed one bit and she panics, sure to have scared him.

She steps back, ready to retreat into her huge rooms and curl up under the blankets, and stammers:

“But I understand if it bothers you! I… I might kick a lot and I don’t want to interrupt your trips in the Fade!”

That’s another big fear she has: what if she truly bothers him in bed and doesn’t let him sleep in peace?

By the Void, maybe _she_ is the one who snores! She should have asked Cole, Cassandra, or Dorian, the ones she usually shares a tent with.

This was a bad idea. She shouldn’t have done this, she should have kept her mouth shut and waited a little more to see what she could do to improve their nights.

“I’m sorry.” she murmurs, looking for the handle of the door. “Pretend I said nothing. I…”

Solas’ face finally shifts and a smile lightens his features, transforming them into a warm expression. He looks almost touched and completely, utterly in love.

“I’d love to.” he says and Scarlet blinks, mouth slightly open, trying to understand what she just heard. He repeats it, in a different way, using a soft kiss and this time she is able to press her chest against his without trouble.

“I… I don’t know whether I actually kick in my sleep or not.” Scarlet admits ashamed, her words mumbled against Solas’ lips. “If I bother you…”

“How could you bother me, _vhenan_?” his kind smile broadens and his hands finds each side of her waist which seems to have been made for them. “Now, let us hurry before the sun comes up and we are forced to head back down.”

She is so overjoyed and excited she can’t even think well: her mind is full of fog, light air that makes her feel like a cloud, or at least like what she thinks clouds feel like.

She is pretty sure she is floating right now and a sudden thought hits her only when she and Solas are already going up the stairs in her rooms, hand in hand.

She turns abruptly to him, thinking he probably forgot about it, and asks:

“Wait, what about your pyjamas? Or your night clothes?”

Solas blushes and for a moment dread runs down Scarlet’s spine.

Does he sleeps naked…? He would have surely told her if that was the case, though.

Not that she wouldn’t mind. It would be quite-

She bites her cheek to force herself not to think about Solas’ naked body and focuses back on him.

He looks rather mortified and she brings his hand to her chest, tilting her head. He even clears his throat and sets his eyes on the stairs.

“Well…” a moment of silence, then he looks at her again, smiling sheepishly. His face is all red. “I sleep with these clothes on.”

“ _Every night_?”

He nods and Scarlet quietly studies his sweater.

She did that before: it’s a warm, comfortable thing, but it’s clear it has been used a lot and for a long time. Its sleeves are frayed, the wool isn’t washed well and there are still faint stains of dirt and grass on it, its threads are loose and worn out.

She knows Solas doesn’t own much, to the point he even used to wear this sweater under his battle robes until she made a new armor for him… but to think he doesn’t even possess something different to sleep in!

She feels bad, like a stupid, blind fool. She sewed new armors for him, but didn’t think about new clothes for his daily life. Those are important too and she forgot about them.

“Forgive me, Solas.” she says and he stares at her, shocked. “I should have done something about it.”

“What?” he says, breathless. Then he sees the guilt on her face and tugs at her hand. “ _Vhenan,_ what are you saying? It is not your fault!”

“I will sew new pyjamas for you!” she promises, stealing a kiss before he can protest. She leads him up the stairs, talking while looking back, excitement in her voice and a bright smile on her face: “Just tell me what color and cloth you would like! I can sew pretty much everything.”

“Don’t waste your spare time for something like that.” he insists, frowning, but she as stubborn as he is and doesn’t relent one bit.

“It’s not wasting time, Solas. It’s making something for my boyfriend, something he clearly needs a lot… together with clothes for the day.”

He splutters, already imagining her sewing hundreds of sweaters for him during the night, when her duties are over or temporarily discarded, a time she should use to rest and relax.

They have reached the top of the stairs, entering her quarters, and Solas pouts and frowns at her, both at the same time, an endearing scowl that makes her giggle.

“You are going to make these at the most dreadful hours, aren’t you?” he asks, already concerned, and she sighs.

“Alright, this is what I’ll do.” she says. “In case I won’t have time to sew you a new sweater and clothes for the night, we will buy them. How does that sound?”

He nearly _whines_ and looks even more worried than before.

“Don’t waste money for…”

“Inquisition money!” Scarlet corrects him with a grin, raising her index finger. “To improve the life of the Inquisitor’s companions! Surely that’s a valid use for it, no?”

Solas chuckles at that, then sighs with a resigned nod and an amused, tender smile.

“Thank you, _vhenan_.” he says softly and Scarlet’s grin broadens.

His long fingers play with hers and he adds, pretending to be offended, but clearly wanting to joke and tease her:

“Although sleeping with this sweater on is not that awful. It is warm and soft, perfect for the cold winter nights.”

“It’s _unhygienic_.”

“Oh?” He smirks and one of his eyebrows raises in that way that makes her knees go all wobbly and weak. A heartbeat passes, then he lunges at her, wrapping his arms around her to keep her still.

“Is this unhygienic too?” he asks, grinning, then licks her neck and Scarlet bursts into a fit of giggles, trying to get away from the ticklish sensation.

“Perhaps this is!” Solas continues, swiping his tongue once across her cheek and laughing when Scarlet stumbles backwards, still held tightly in his arms.

He tickles her with his mouth and hands and they both play like they did outside the room before, filling her quarters with the happy sound of laughter and giggles.

They stumble until they reach her desk and there Solas stops, letting her catch her breath and brushing back her hair. He is breathing heavily too, grinning as Scarlet still lets out some giggles or snorts.

“We should go to sleep, my heart. It is quite late.” He suddenly turns serious and pinches his sweater with his index finger and thumb, to observe it better and see for himself how bad it looks.

He blushes and his voice is small and ashamed when he speaks again.

“I… I understand if you don’t want me to wear this while sleeping in your bed.”

He makes a surprised sound when Scarlet hits his hand.

“Hush, you silly.” she chides him both with incredulity and patience. She shoots him a pointed look followed by a smile and a shake of her head.

“Are you comfortable in those?” she asks and Solas gives them one last look before nodding and saying sheepishly: “… I usually take off my leather wrappings. They tend to chafe during the night.”

Scarlet blushes, images of Solas’ toned chest already getting in her mind. She caught glimpses of it during their travels, while they washed off the blood in streams and rivers after a fight, but she always averted her eyes before he could see her watching him.

What she managed to see, though, made her heart race faster and turned her face beetle red.

His sweater fits him well and knowing there won’t be any leather underneath it and that she could rest a hand on his chest and feel his taut muscles and…

She pushes those thoughts aside - leaving them for those quiet moments of daydreaming that always make her belly tingle - and bows her head to look at her feet, hoping Solas hasn’t seen her blush.

There should be some old clothes she never wore in the wardrobe. They were made with human sizes in mind by mistake; they would probably be too big for Solas too, but at least they would be clean, something different and _fresh_ compared to the sweater and pants he wears every day all day long.

She almost asks him if he’d like to see them and try them out; the style isn’t very feminine and it shouldn’t be too tight on the shoulders and waist.

But then she changes her mind: he might think she really doesn’t want him to wear his sweater and pants in bed, that she is disgusted by them, and that’s totally the opposite of what she thinks.

She believe they are cute, that they look good on him and fit him perfectly. She doesn’t mind what he wears, as long as he is happy and satisfied and it protects him either from an enemy’s blade or the chilly night air.

So she smiles at him and presses her lips on his. His cheeks are still red and there is still a timid light in his eyes that increases after she kisses him.

“Let’s go to bed.” she whispers and he smiles in return.

She retrieves her nightgown from the wardrobe and spends ten good seconds trying to decide how to slip into it. She hesitates, babbles something, then sees one of the storage rooms, the one with a door, and decides to change clothes there.

“No.” Solas stops her, resting one hand on her back. “I will change there. I only have to remove these wrappings, while you need more space and the wardrobe to put away your things.” He smiles. “Also, I am the guest here, so it is only fair that you use the main room.”

“Solas.” she sighs. “This is your room too.”

She realizes the importance and meaning behind those words only after they have left her mouth, but it’s true: her quarters are his too if he wants and he will always be welcome here. She wants him to know that and she often dreams of him moving in here, of sharing her quarters and space with him.

Solas stays quiet for a while, surprise written on his face; then he smiles, joy shining in his eyes. He kisses her, murmurs a ‘thank you’, then enters the closet room, giving her one last tender look before closing the door.

Scarlet hurries back to the wardrobe, looking for a prettier nightgown. She doesn’t own many, despite Josephine’s insistence and continuous attempts to fill her drawers with outfits suitable for her title as Inquisitor.

The few she has are undoubtedly rich and expensive and she rarely wore them, except for the one currently folded over her arm. It’s the simplest she has and she loves it a lot, but she has been wearing it for many nights now… plus she has noticed just now that the neckline is a bit low.

She whines, looking at the others inside the drawers: satin, golden embroideries, even small pearls decorate them and she doesn’t really recognize herself in that _shemlen_ , pompous style. Apparently she needs to sew or buy something new for herself too.

After smelling it and making sure it’s alright, she puts on the simple gown; she decorated the dim white cloth with her own embroideries along the brim, during one of her first nights in these big, silent quarters, when anxiety and fear struck her harder.

She puts away her beige outfit, glancing at the closed door of the storage room once in a while, then fetches a small pocket mirror to fix her hair ( _an unruly mess_ , she sighs) and check her face ( _a pale, freckled mess_ , she whines). She pushes up the neckline of the nightgown too and leaves her breastband on, not wanting to embarrass Solas with glimpses of her breasts.

But that part of her that has become bold is insistent, so she takes a deep breath and pulls the neckline back how it was, praying there won’t be incidents during the night.

Then she heads to the bed, smoothing the blanket and sheets and punching the pillows to make them fluffy. Just then, Solas knocks from behind the door and asks: “May I?”

“Of… of course!”

He opens the door and steps back into the bedroom, holding the leather wrappings, his belt, and the wolf jaw pendant in his arms. He freezes on the spot when he sees her and stares at her for a long time, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.

Scarlet fidgets nervously near the bed, self-conscious. Only the servant who brings her breakfast every morning - a cheerful dwarven woman - saw her wearing the nightgown. And Solas is _Solas_ , he is her _vhenan_ and she wants to look good for him.

Perhaps she should have worn the nightgown with the golden motifs. Or styled her hair differently or used a bit of perfume or…

Solas moves silently to the couch, drops his stuff there, then slowly goes to her. He strokes her cheek with the back of his hand, then cups it and leans down to brush his lips against hers. It’s a soft, feather-light kiss which he deepens after a few seconds, welcoming her in his arms.

“You are beautiful.” he says, breathing heavily, once they pull away. She beams at him, her fears evaporated, and he chuckles, grinning in return and lulling her in his embrace.

“Is your foot alright?” she asks. She noticed he walked without problems when he went to her near the bed, but she wonders if his leg or foot still aches.

Solas raises his eyebrows, confused, and she explains.

“You were walking funny before. Did you hurt yourself while we were… umh… laying down?”

His cheeks burn and he has to clear his throat before he can assure her that he’s fine, but then he is smiling again, so she doesn’t worry much.

“I will take care of those stones near the door tomorrow.” she says, taking his hand and leading him to bed. “I think I felt one too. It was hard and big.”

She is looking at the colored blanket, so she doesn’t see Solas’ horrified expression. His ears are all pink now.

“Which… which side of the bed do you prefer?” she asks, unsure of his sleeping habits. Solas recoveries from his shock and laughs fondly, kissing her hand and fingers.

“As long as it’s next to you, any side is perfect.” His smile turns into that roguish smirk-raised eyebrow expression that always destroy her logical thoughts and she snorts, thumping him.

He retaliates with a swift, teasing lick on her ear and before she can counterattack, he jumps on the bed and quickly slips under the covers, back resting against the wooden headboard.

His smile is innocent again.

Scarlet huffs, swats his legs as she climbs onto the bed, and glares at him as he moves closer, smirking wickedly.

“I am sorry.” he says. “That was…”

“No.”

“Unhygienic.”

“ _Solas_.”

“Be sure to clean your ears and face thoroughly tomorrow, _vhenan_. Who knows what my saliva might do.”

Scarlet smacks his thigh under the sheets and he laughs, one arm already wrapped around her waist.

He is _excited_ , happy, cheerful, and mirth echoes in his voice. She melts and continues to play, wishing to see him so happy forever.

“I don’t know. Even after all our kisses, I’m still fine.” She pretends to be offended and tenses up when he hums and brushes his nose against her cheek. “Knowing you, flowers might sprout on my skin.” She glances at him and a corner of her mouth twitches and threatens to curl upwards. “Or fragments of the Fade.”

He tuts, moving his lips closer to her ear, and she stifles a giggle. He is tickling her on purpose with his light touches and breath.

“Such rudeness.” he says, reaching her earlobe. The tip of his tongue touches it and she snorts, wriggling. His hand on her waist tightens and he presses fully his mouth on her neck, grinning as she bursts into laughter and embraces him.

“You are dreadful.” she smiles, shaking her head, and his expression softens, just like his smile. He caresses her face, squishing gently her cheek on his palm. She leans into the touch and he slowly rests his forehead against hers.

“I am.” he agrees. His voice is suddenly sad - it happens sometimes and even though she doesn’t know what haunts him so, she hopes she can help him somehow.

She moves her hand up to massage his bald head and he hums, sorrow disappearing from his gray-blue eyes.

“Let’s sleep, _ma vhenan_.” she says. “And call me if I move too much, alright?”

“Don’t worry, _ma sa’lath_.” he chuckles, then frowns, concerned about something. He blushes and mumbles, pronouncing the words slowly, as if it hurts to say them: “If I snore - which I _don’t_ -, please wake me up. Do not feel bad about it.”

Scarlet smirks, raising an eyebrow, and Solas hurries to add: “I do _not_ snore, though.”

“I know, _vhenan_.” She kisses his nose and pushes him down on his back. “I will keep that in mind, in any case.”

“Good.” His brow smoothens and his smile comes back. She hesitates for a moment, then rests her head down on his chest and he immediately drapes an arm over her. Her heart beats like a hammer and she notices that his does too.

She cuddles next to him, not knowing where to put her legs and feet. Can she tangle one with his? Would it bother him if she pressed herself fully against him?

She stays still, listening to his even breathing and quickened heartbeat. She smiles at that, flustered, but still unsure about what she can do, until _he_ moves and pulls her closer.

“Your bed is very comfortable.” he comments and part of her anxiety melts away.

“Yes. It took me a while to get used to it, though.” She traces one finger down the pattern of his sweater and feels his chest underneath it. She smiles. “We Dalish usually sleep on pallets, bed of leaves, or the ground.”

“Did you feel lonely when you first slept here?” Solas’ voice sounds sad again and Scarlet doesn’t want to sadden him more. It is true she felt lonely, yes, but it got better and now she desires for nothing else with him sleeping in this same room.

“A bit.” she admits. She raises her head to smile at him. “But not anymore.”

He taps her nose and gently moves her head back on his chest. He starts to play with her hair.

“… Solas, is _your_ bed comfortable?”

He laughs; the sound reverberates in his chest, a deep, rumbling sound that fills Scarlet’s ears like music.

“It is.” he assures her, resting his other hand on her right one laying on his chest. “Almost anything is comfortable for me, provided I can fall asleep easily on it to visit the Fade.”

She is about to suggest he could  sleep here from now on, but stops herself and laughs with him, rubbing her face on his sweater. The smell is pungent, a bit strong, but not unpleasant.

She notices he is a bit tense and stiff, not totally relaxed, and he is aware of that too, because he says softly as he gently turns on his side, moving her as well: “Forgive me. I am not used to having someone in my bed. It’s new…” he smiles and pulls her closer again, tangling his legs with hers. “… but beautiful as well.”

“Yes.” She looks into his eyes and hugs him even tighter. “It’s very beautiful.”

They spend some more time talking about little, simple things, then the comfort and warmth of the bed begin to lure them into the Fade. Solas blows out the candles previously lit by the servants with a wave of his hand; the fire in the hearth gets dimmer, but it’s still strong enough to warm the room.

It takes them a while to fall asleep. They silently stare at each other, smiling, their eyes shimmering in the darkness, and even though their hands never dare too much and their tangled legs are still, there is a good, vibrating tension between them, that same holding-breath sensation that could be felt while they were kissing on the stairs.

“Will you visit me in the Fade?” Scarlet asks in the end and Solas replies in the usual way: “Always, _vhenan_.”

They share one last kiss, then enter the world of spirits and dreams, holding each other in a tight, strong embrace.

 

\- - - -

 

The next day, Scarlet discovers what that stone she felt was.

The sun hasn’t risen yet, but light is gradually filling the room through the high and large windows.

At first she gasps, frightened by the figure in front of her, then remembers the previous night and grins, elated.

Solas _snores_.

It’s not a very loud sound, but it’s not low either and it ends sharply, as if he was whistling. His mouth is slightly open and he is drooling a bit on the pillow, an arm still draped over her, his other hand touching her chin.

They slept like two babies for the whole night, visiting a particularly beautiful memory in the Fade and talking a lot. It felt different from usual: it was like they had just done something special, important, something that signaled the start of a great event, a milestone.

And sleeping together, so close to each other and trusting, _is_ an important milestone.

Scarlet watches him snore, admiring the laugh lines near his eyes and the serenity on his face, then presses herself further to him, wishing to kiss him on the chin.

Her knee touches _something_ and Solas suddenly moans, making her gasp.

It’s a sound she never heard him make before. It was… _intense_ and even despite all her inexperience, she can guess its undertone.

She tentatively moves her leg again, touches that hard thing, and Solas moans again, rubbing his cheek on the pillow and moving his hand up and down her back until it stops on her butt.

Scarlet takes a deep breath, her heart threatening to explode, and gingerly lifts the blanket a little bit, peeking under it.

Her knee is between Solas’ legs: the flap of his sweater is lifted and she can see what she has been touching until now.

A rather voluminous bulge is visible underneath his pants. The outline is unmistakable and even though she never saw one in the flesh before, she recognizes it immediately.

It’s big. And thick. And… _Creators_ , she wants to touch it and hear Solas make that sound again!

Strange thoughts fill her mind. They did it before, at night, after she finished reading a smutty novel given to her by Dorian or simply daydreamed about Solas.

Now that she is watching his _erection_ , those thoughts are stronger and more insistent than ever. They are confused and rather simplified, but the gist of it is clear and her breathing gets faster, tingles and bubbles form in her belly, and she feels the strong urge to buck against him like she did the night before.

 _Oh_. So that’s _what_ she felt. That’s why Solas walked so funny.

She inadvertently moves her knee again and he gasps. His hand squeezes her butt and he thrusts against her leg.

“Scarlet…” he moans into the pillow and she whimpers, biting her lips.

This is hot and alluring and many other things she can barely name, but it’s not the right time, it’s not the right way.

If Solas wakes up, he will feel ashamed for the rest of his life and the memory and experience of their first night together would be ruined.

Also, she doesn’t want to do this while he’s asleep, it’s wrong and disrespectful. Solas deserves more than being… what was the word she read? Ah, _dry humped_.

He deserves more than that.

So she kisses him and slightly pulls away, making sure to still hold him and be held, without touching his hips. His breathing slows down and he quickly relaxes, his brow smooth and his mouth letting out that cute sound again.

Scarlet smiles, takes his hand, and falls back asleep with her face pressed against it.

 

\- - - -

 

The bright sunlight wakes him up.

He gasps, startled, when his still drowsy mind notices a presence next to him. Then he remembers the events of last night and sighs relieved.

Scarlet is snoring lightly, face pressed against his hand, and he chuckles softly. His heart swells and his love for her leaves him breathless, an explosion inside his chest whose sparks reach every part of his soul.

He presses a gentle kiss on her forehead, careful not to wake her up; he is about to snuggle up to her - why is she sleeping in that odd pose? - when he notices it.

He pales and glances under the blanket.

_Oh no._

“ _Fenedhis!_ ”

He looks back at her and prays she isn’t sleeping like that because she felt his erection pressed against her belly. He would never forgive himself. He would rather jump out of the window than embarrass her or make her uncomfortable.

He tries to put as much distance as possible between their hips and sighs relieved when she keeps sleeping.

His dick twitches and almost hurts, but he fiercely ignores it. He makes sure to glare at it before, though. Then he watches Scarlet sleep and that sensation from before, the colorful explosion in his heart, happens again.

She is beautiful and her face looks even kinder when she sleeps, especially when she snores so adorably, mouth slightly open and cheek squished against the pillow.

The pillow. It smells like her, just like the sheets and the blanket.

This has been like a dream - _better_ than a dream - and a selfish part of him wishes to sleep with her and share their bed from now on, to fall asleep with her in his arms and wake her up with kisses and elven endearments.

He wants to be able to do that _forever_.

“Scarlet. My love.” he murmurs, slowly moving his hand to cup her face. She hums and nuzzles his wrist, without waking up, and he chuckles, kissing her lips now that they are visible.

He keeps watching her, memorizing every detail of her face, observing the way her body fall and rise, the freckles on her nose and forehead, the small scars on her fingers; he listens to her tiny noises and even breathing and smiles, he smiles until his cheeks ache and even then he doesn’t stop.

“ _Ma sa’lath_.” he whispers and a question, an idea, takes full shape in his mind after months of hesitation.

Why not tell her the truth?

He ponders over that possibility with fear and hope mixed together until a knock on the door below almost causes him to shout. He props himself on an elbow and waits.

Without waiting for an answer, the door opens and small steps resonate in the room, together with the unmistakable clink-clank of cutlery and dishes.

“Good morning, Inquisitor!” a cheerful voice says and Solas can only stay still and stare at the stairs as the servant makes her way to the top.

“Today the cook prepared something different. A recipe straight from Rivain, I was told.” the servant continues and then she appears, a middle-aged dwarven woman with short hair.

She doesn’t sees him immediately, focused as she is on her feet and the tray, but when she raises her head and her eyes set on him, she pales and her mouth hangs open.

“Good morning.” Solas greets her, nodding. The dwarven lady babbles something, her gaze moving from him to Scarlet.

“I… I didn’t know there was…! Should I… Should I go and bring another tray?”

“There is no need, thank you.” he replies with a smile. “I do not eat much in the morning.”

He looks back at Scarlet and gently combs her hair with his fingers. She is slowly waking up and a yawn leaves her mouth as she stirs.

She sees Solas first and smiles dreamily, cheeks red; he smiles back and for a moment they look at each other like that, then she senses the dwarf and turns her head sharply towards the stairs.

She gasps and her mouth forms a cute ‘o’.

“I… I will leave this here.” the servant meekly says, walking over to the table near the couch and putting the tray there. Her eyes never leave the couple in the bed. “Do… do you need something else, Inquisitor?”

Scarlet turns to Solas, but he shakes his head to let her know he isn’t hungry, so she turns back to the dwarven lady and smiles.

“No, thank you. That would be all.”

The dwarf bows her head and _runs_ away, almost tripping on the stairs.

When the door closes, Scarlet makes a tiny sound and says with a sort of awe in her voice: “All Skyhold will know about this within ten minutes.”

“I would say five.” Solas smiles and Scarlet laughs, throwing her arms around him again. Fortunately his erection is gone, so he can relax and return her embrace fully without worries.

“Good morning, _vhenan_.” she says softly, her eyes big and golden like the sunrays entering from the windows.

Solas stares into those eyes and hope for the future blossoms and grows into his heart.

“Good morning, my love.” he says, kissing her. His smile broadens. “Sleep well?”

“Never better. And you?” She doesn’t miss the way his laugh lines deepens around his eyes and mouth as he nods and replies: “Never better.”

She giggles and he is about to pull her into his arms for some deep kisses and more cuddles, when a terrible doubt hits him.

“Did I…” he stops, then tries again, face flushed red: “Did I bother you?”

Scarlet blinks, surprised, and for a second he is _sure_ he did something, that he either snored like a beast for the whole night or pressed his erection against her body. But she smiles kindly and shakes her head.

“How could you bother me, _ma sa’lath_?” she says, using his same words from yesterday. She puts a hand on his cheek and strokes it with her thumb. “I woke up only for a few minutes at dawn and you were sleeping so quietly I almost feared you weren’t breathing.”

Solas’ blush caused by shame is now caused by relief and a bit of healthy pride. He clears his throat and nods with a satisfied “I’m glad” and Scarlet giggles again.

Her hair is sticking out in all directions, unruly red locks falling near her round face, and Solas gently brushes it back, combing it like he was doing before.

“If you want,” she starts shyly, wringing her hands, “you could sleep here tonight too.”

Solas’ hands stop and she raises her eyes to him, waiting nervously and excitedly for his answer.

He chuckles, heart beating fast, and leans closer until their foreheads are touching.

“I’d love to.” he says and the idea of spending another night with her, talking and playing, makes him happier than any dream the Fade could offer him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters are getting longer because Solavellan is a wonderful, great, beautiful ship, THUS it deserves all the space and effort and care in the world. ( ´ ▽ ` )
> 
> (That and I don't know what the heck "short and brief" means)
> 
> The rating changed because of those sex mentions and Solas' dick - also some of the next chapters will be full NSFW ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> I will try to focus on the other WIP I still have and the ten new ideas swimming in my head too ; v ;


	4. Argument

The Inquisitor is reckless in battle.

Her companions have the final proof of this while fighting Red Templars in the Emerald Graves, surrounded by the tall, towering trees and the unsettling red forms of the corrupted soldiers.

Her plans during small battles and skirmishes are usually simple: hit until they are dead. She adds some strategy when the adversaries are big or overly dangerous and she wants to avoid any unnecessary damage or wounds to her friends, but in the end she always changes her role, intervening without warning and coming up with new plans on the moment, while her daggers slice her enemy’s side or throat.

She is fast, nimble, and practically invisible when she surrounds herself with her stealth powder and uses her huntress skills to attack her adversary from behind without being noticed, but she is not sturdy and her lithe body is no match for a Behemoth’s punch or a giant’s kick. When they manage to hit her, they hit her _hard_.

More than in one occasion, her friends saw her fall down, unconscious or severely wounded, or limp back to the camp with ragged breaths and blood streaming down her face, her conditions too bad to be healed by just a health potion or magic.

They tried to convince her to stay back or at least not to jump directly in the middle of the battle, where the fight is worse and big swords, hammers, and axes are swung with deadly precision. That’s the warriors’ place and she - and mages and any other rogue, for that matter - risk too much there.

Solas, especially, insisted about that countless times. He actually _hissed_ it, not bothering hide his ire caused by enormous worry, while healing her as best as he could and helping her drink the soothing concoctions he had prepared for her.

She always replied with a bloody smile and the promise that she would be more careful the next time, but that’s apparently the only promise she isn’t able to keep, because she punctually joins the warrior of the group in the middle of the fight or goes protect the other rogue or the mage, not caring about the strategy, not caring about her wellbeing.

If he hadn’t been already bald, Solas would have lost all his hair at this point.

In this particular dry, warm day she gives him the confirmation that she truly cannot stay away from where the battle is more intense and bloody. She just can’t throw small knives from afar nor focus only on the rogue or mage enemies or those separated from their companions.

She goes straight for the big, ugly, _dangerous_ ones or pesters and haunts those who are attacking her friends, unleashing their fury on herself.

Every time he sees her - gracefully - leap and twirl and roll and slash right where the worst enemies are, he feels on the verge of a panic attack. That makes him cast his spells with more precision and ferocity, he even uses his staff to hit the adversaries, but his eyes are always set on her, following her across the battlefield, and his heart threatens to explode.

He pales and whines under his breath every time she is hit or barely dodges an attack; his knees feel week every time she sneaks behind a Behemoth or a menacing Venatori; he tries to reach her as soon as possible, but it’s usually _her_ the one who reaches him first.

Today, as usual, she doesn’t follow the plan they prepared in the camp: in case of Behemoths or giants, rogues focus on the small guys first, _then_ help the warrior, while the mage provide barriers and support from behind.

“Repeat it.” Solas told her sternly before they left to continue explore the Emerald Graves and help Fairbanks’ men. “We won’t leave until you repeat it and _swear_ you will follow it.”

Scarlet sighed, but repeated the plan without missing a beat and then moved… or at least she _tried_ to move, stopped by Solas’ grip on her wrist.

“ _Swear_.” he hissed, worry and fear already creeping into his bones and blood. She pouted and mumbled some kind of promise and Solas inwardly sobbed, already knowing she was going to plunge her daggers into a Behemoth’s back as soon as she saw one.

“Inquisitor, it’s not that hard.” Blackwall told her while they walked through the path among the melancholic trees. “You just don’t go where the guys three heads taller than you are! Leave those to me.”

“You can’t fight them all, Blackwall.” she retorted, expertly harvesting a beautiful Elfroot plant with a tiny knife. “I am the Inquisitor and I can’t just stay behind, leaving the hard work to you or letting Solas or Cole be in danger.”

“You are a _rogue_ too.” Solas intervened, glaring at her with all his might. “And our leader. We cannot lose you.”

 _I can’t lose you_.  

He didn’t say that out loud, but Scarlet understood all the same, because those words lingered in the air and his cheeks got red. She smiled at him, timid and blushing, but Solas’ worry only grew.

He was correct: she is now fighting against such a muscular Red Templar that she looks like a frail twig compared to him, a little thing ready to be smashed like a glass figurine.

Blackwall is busy with another one, his great sword fending air and flesh with few difficulties; Cole is taking care of a bothersome Shadow who already managed to slice a deep cut across his shoulder, but he is doing good.

Solas himself has to deal with another Red Templar Shadow, faster than his friend, savage and wild like a mad beast; he retreats, focusing his major offensive spells on him, and follows the strategy, never stepping into the invisible circle that delineates the battlefield so to avoid catching the other enemies’ attention.

As usual, he keeps an eye on Scarlet too and always makes sure to cast a barrier on her as soon as the old one fades away or is destroyed. She is fighting valiantly, as always, and the Knight she is hitting is showing all his tiredness, corrupted, dense blood flowing down his ravaged legs and the deep wounds Scarlet inflicted him.

She is going to win. She is quick, her movements are like a dance, and the Red Templar can’t follow her; sometimes he can’t even see her, not when she uses her stealth powder and disappears from everyone’s sight.

Solas sighs relieved, then grimace as the Shadow who is pestering him pierces through his barrier.

She is safe, even though she didn’t follow the plan. She isn’t taking unnecessary risks and is actually being more careful than usual. She is going to win and then she will help Cole or Blackwall or him, Solas, but their adversaries are not as big and sturdy as hers and their attacks won’t hit her hard as much.

She won’t faint, she won’t lose consciousness due to bloodloss, she won’t have to endure any broken rib or limb this time. She won’t risk her life and she will fall asleep in his arms tonight, safe and with just a few bruises, not spread on her bedroll fighting against death or pain.

He has been focusing so much on her that he doesn’t see the Red Templar Shadow lunge forward to pierce him with his claws. He senses it only at the last second, when it’s too late and he can’t cast a barrier around himself or dodge.

It doesn’t matter. He isn’t tired or already wounded, so the blow shouldn’t be excessively bad, he should be able to stand it without difficulties. He will survive and keep fighting.

But _she_ has seen the Shadow lunging at him. She has noticed the danger he is in and flings her chain - a long chain she learned to use quite well - towards the Red Templar.

She watches the claw at the end snap close around his arm and then lets the momentum carry her until she is right between the twisted man and Solas.

It happens all so quickly - she is so, so _fast_ \- that he barely has the time to acknowledge it. He realizes what is going to happen soon, but once again he is too slow to stop it.

The Red Templar shrieks, enraged by the interruption and the black claw still tightened around his arm, and raises his other one to attack Scarlet. The chain is in the way, near her feet, and she doesn’t dodge.

Solas watches in horror as the red blade of the Shadow slashes her side, as she cries out in pain and surprise, but keeps shielding him.

“Solas, new plan! Attack him after me!”

Then she gets down to let Solas see the enemy and plunges her daggers into the Templar’s legs, making him scream and stumble, distracting him from Solas’ ice spell which finally kills him.

Back where Scarlet was, the sturdy Guardsman she was fighting roars, ready to rush to them, but Solas is angry, worried beyond belief, and Scarlet isn’t rising. He can hear her breathing heavily and his heart and head pound painfully.

He twirls and stomps the staff on the ground, watching with a snarl the sparks of painful electricity fly down onto the Templar and frying him inside his armor.

Cole and Blackwall give the finishing blow to their own adversaries and then turn to them to make sure everything is alright; the spirit boy is breathless, but doesn’t look too hurt and Blackwall is just a bit sweaty, his sword sticky with dense, bright blood.

Solas kneels at Scarlet’s side and gently moves her hand from her wound with his trembling ones, his staff forgotten on the stained grass.

“Let me see, _vhenan_.” he says softly and she complies, grimacing and hissing when his fingertips brushes against her skin and move the cut leather jacket she is wearing. The Red Templar hit her on her side, fortunately missing her chest and neck.

Her armor took a big part of the damage, successfully stopping the Shadow’s claw from entering too deeply into her flesh, but it’s still a _wound_ and Red Templars aren’t like Venatori: their blood and weapons are foul, filled with corrupted lyrium, and they are as much as insidious as darkspawn.

“Oh, it’s nothing serious!” Scarlet laughs, happy the battle is over and everything - almost everything - went fine. “Some gauzes, a good health potion, and a bit of healing magic and this will stop hurting in less than a day.”

It is true this is nothing like the previous times, when she could barely stand up or had to be carried back to the nearest camp, unconscious and too weak to wake up. But she didn’t follow the plan - _as usual_ \- and risked her life to protect one of her companions - _as usual_.

And now she is dismissing it, as if it was nothing serious or troubling, as if there was no reason to be worried.

Solas _is_ worried for her. Constantly, every time they engage in battle with their many enemies. And not because she carries the Anchor or because she is the Inquisitor, but because she is his heart and if something happens to her, he…

“Are you alright?” Cole asks her as she sits up to better drink the health potion she took out of her pouch. “Your skin burns.”

“It does.” she admits with a smile, then drinks the potion and smears the last droplets of it on the wound, sighing relieved. She beams at Cole, who smiles back. “All better now!”

“You forgot this.” Blackwall picks up the chain left on the grass. He turns to her with a raised eyebrow. “Inquisitor, why can’t you stay away from the worst guys?”

“It wouldn’t be funny otherwise!” she jokes, while Solas applies some healing magic on the cut and wraps clean gauzes around her waist to cover the wound. “My daggers don’t get enough satisfaction if I don’t hit the biggest bad guys, you know? They don’t work well after.”

Cole’s eyes widen and he looks at his knives, which he is still holding, covered in blood up to the hilt.

“How do you know that?” he whispers, in awe. “Do your daggers talk to you?”

“It was just a joke, Cole.” Scarlet explains, laughing sweetly. Then she notices the wound on his shoulder and her tone changes, turning almost maternal as she nods at the blood on his coat: “Drink a health potion and put some gauzes on that too!”

“My daggers don’t stop working if I don’t fight the biggest men.” Cole insists with a frown. “Is it because you get tired after? Is that what you meant?”

“I will explain it to you once you take care of that bad cut.” she promises with a smile. The spirit boy’s eyes get larger and he hurries to rummage into the leather pouches the others gave him.

In two of them, he keeps the medical equipment and everything he needs to fight, in the others the colored pebbles, flowers, and intriguing things he picks up during their long trips.

“Come here, boy. I’ll help you.” Blackwall says, dropping the chain and moving him some steps away from Scarlet and Solas to better help him. He starts teaching him how to better medicate a wound like the one he got.

The elven apostate is wrapping a second long gauze around Scarlet’s waist to make sure the wound won’t open again. He is going to reuse his healing magic on it soon. He needs to know she won’t bleed or suffer in the following hours.

She is blushing. Her cheeks have been red for the whole time: it always happens when he takes care of her wounds and he finds it endearing, sweet, but right now his worry and the rage caused by it are too much and he is silent, his movements stiff and cold, although never rushed and always gentle.

She grows even more timid, but he doesn’t melt or soften, not even when he starts applying a second healing spell on her gauzed wound and she moves closer to him.

Once he is done, he closes her jacket and moves to stand up, but she stops him with an alarmed sound and her hand on his.

“What about the get-well kiss?” she asks with a smile which is both surprised and shy.

After helping each other medicate their wounds, they always share a kiss, another ‘ritual’ of theirs.

But today the worry in Solas’ heart still hasn’t left him and he can’t believe she is taking this - her wellbeing - so lightly. She is not supposed to joke. She is not supposed to dismiss what happened to her with a smile and pretend _nothing_ happened.

She doesn’t have to risk her life for him, she _must not_ to, because he doesn’t deserve it, he is not worthy of that. He would never want that and he cannot lose her.

So he snaps and glares at her, even though it hurts him to see her so shocked and mortified as he does so.

“You think this is a joke?” he says coldly, tightening his grip on her hand. She blinks, wide-eyed, and he continues, raising his voice and letting all his concern and fear pour out:

“You think this is funny? That you can let enemies hit you like that, smear your blood all over the Emerald Graves, and force yourself to get up for another battle?”

She babbles something and he knows there is panic written on his face, but he can’t stop himself from continuing with an angry tone: “Why are you so _reckless_? Do you gain amusement from risking your life like that? Do you think yourself invincible?”

He is shouting now and Cole and Blackwall are staring at them, not believing their eyes and ears. Scarlet looks as stunned as them and she pales, whereas Solas’ face is all red and his hand is shaking.

He sees her lying unconscious on the ground, gasping for air or whimpering sadly in their tent; he sees her screaming in pain as an enemy’s sword sink deep into her flesh because she got too close, and his eyes swell with tears, like they always do when he thinks about those scenes, like they always did when he stayed by her side every time she got hurt.

“This is not some Dalish hunt. We are not fighting deer, bears, or hares.” he continues, talking too fast, too heatedly, so much he is frightening her. “We are dealing with _monsters_ and you go next to them as if they were just shadows to play with!”

Her expression changes at that. It’s still hurt, mortified, shocked, but now her own rage appears too.

Her way of getting mad is not as wild and loud as his: she can snap and raise her voice too, but it doesn’t last much and she usually prefers to show her anger through her face and impatient gestures, then mitigate it until it can turn into something positive.

Hers is a timid rage, like a firework that explodes loudly and fills the sky, but then falls down gently, coloring the stars and clouds and making people forget that the explosion ever happened.

She can be quite _scary_ when an enemy bothers her too much, though.

Solas sees that particular ire on her face now and grows timid, not used to it. She rarely gets angry at him and their companions, but right now he can see how upset _at him_ she is, how much his words affected her.

Good. Perhaps she will _finally_ start being more careful.

So he hardens his heart and sucks in a deep breath, ready to face her outburst. She pulls her hand away from his grip and its absence hurts like acid.

“I am perfectly aware of what kind of people we are fighting, Solas.” she starts, her voice shaky with emotion. She frowns and her tone gets more heated. “And I know _how_ to fight them. I am not a child and I know what I am doing!”

“You might not be a child, but you certainly act _like_ one!” he shouts, then points at the gauzes still visible under her jacket. “You never follow the plans! You are a formidable leader, but you don’t worry about your wellbeing and you always put yourself at risk! And these are the results!”

“I _protect_ my companions! That’s what a good leader does!” she yells in return and she looks as surprised as him, as if she can’t believe she is raising her voice like this with him either. But then her surprise goes away, overwhelmed by her anger.

“I protected _you_!” she continues, shoving him on the grass and getting up, ignoring the way the wound painfully stretches and itches. She closes her hands into tight fists and keeps going, a hint of tears in her voice: “The plans are useless anyway! There are too many variables and unknowns in a battle and you can’t really expect me to keep fighting a minor guy and ignore my friends who are struggling!”

“I _wasn’t_ struggling! I was not in danger!” Solas angrily retorts, scrambling back on his feet and going near her, not to scream at her face, but to hold her hand again. She doesn’t let him and the gesture burns him again.

“I was not struggling.” he repeats, lower this time, looking into her golden, hurt eyes with his sad, blue-gray ones. “That Shadow wouldn’t have hurt me badly and you were too incautious.”

He takes a deep breath, then lets it out: “A good leader should not risk their life in vain. A good leader cannot protect everyone. A good leader cannot stop harm from reaching their friends. There is not always victory in sacrifice, _vhenan_.”

This is what he says, but he wants to say _more_.

 _I cannot lose you_ , he wants to tell her, but the words don’t come out, not here, not when they are both so angry, but at the same time aren’t and their emotions are all tangled together in a weird bundle of _feels_.

She looks at him, eyes full of fire, but not wetness, and he is glad for that, because he can’t bear the thought of making her cry.

She seems to think about what he said and looks down, a hand pressed where her wound is. Solas sighs and dares continue to better convince her she needs to stop being so irresponsible.

“I beg of you, _vhenan_. Every time you ignore our previous plans and go straight for the adversaries you _clearly_ shouldn’t fight, I… we all fear the worst.”

That sparks another flame in her and her head snaps up, her fierce gaze setting on him. Cole tenses up and Blackwall mutters a frightened ‘uh-oh’.

Solas swallows.

She looks _murderous_.

“Do you think I underestimate our adversaries so much? That I actually _want_ to be hurt or that I like it?”

Solas scowls at her, then at her wound, then back at her.

“Well, it _looks_ like it, considering how many times you got hurt!”

She jabs his chest with a finger and he thinks that it shouldn’t hurt so much, but it does and he flinches as she says loudly: “Good news, _vhenan_ : I don’t! I don’t want to get hurt and I don’t like it, but I will gladly let all those swords and daggers go through _me_ if it means they won’t touch my friends, my boyfriend, and poor innocents!”

He snarls, about to repeat what he told her a few minutes ago, but she interrupts him, poking him again. He makes a small, high-pitched sound of distress.

“And I couldn’t care less about what a good leader does or does not! _I_ protect my companions and I will keep fighting this way!”

“But…!”

“And since we both can’t stand to see each other hurt, then you will not take part in our missions anymore.” she adds, suddenly cold, her tone authoritative like it has never been.

Solas splutters, moves to take her hand again, but she moves before he can do so and he stumbles on the chain left on the grass.

“Come on! We are going back to the camp to rest!” she announces, her strides fast and stiff.

Blackwall and Cole hurries to buckle the spirit boy’s armor, his shoulder well medicated, and the warrior asks hesitantly: “Inquisitor, we won’t reach the nearest camp before night! Shouldn’t we just sleep under the stars for today and then…”

“No.” She doesn’t even turn back to look at him. She keeps staring at the beautiful, lush forest in front of her and her voice never falters. “I need the crows to send a message to Dorian and ask him to come here.”

“Absolutely _no_.” Solas intervenes, running to her and desperately trying to keep up with her fast, unrelenting steps. He is carrying her chain and he awkwardly hands it to her while walking-running and attempting to sound as peremptory as her.

“I won’t leave! I won’t go back to Skyhold!” he insists, hoping she will turn her head and look at him, that she will lock eyes with him and see that there is only genuine worry for her in them, that he only wants to protect her and forever shield her from any harm.

But she keeps staring forward and he stumbles on the roots and stones on the ground, hurting his toes and staying behind.

“I won’t feel any better knowing I cannot stay at your side!” he continues, finally reaching her again. His voice is slightly shaky and he can hear his own terror in it, all the dread he feels whenever she fights and all the love he has for her which grows every minute.

“It’s an order, Solas.” she says, taking the chain he is still holding in his arms without looking at him. She expertly ties it on her back, making it pass through a ring on her belt, and keeps moving forward.

Her rage is different this time. It’s like the explosion never ends and the colors don’t want to appear.

Solas whines softly, then puts on a hard, stubborn façade and faces her again.

“I don’t care! I won’t go back to Skyhold and leave you here while…”

“I am more than capable of taking care of myself and the others.” she coldly replies, shoving him aside to kneel on the ground and cut a beautiful specimen of Royal Elfroot.

“I won’t go, _vhenan_.” he repeats, even folding his arms on his chest, and _now_ she looks at him, her glare the most frightening thing he ever saw after her laying on a pool of her own blood.

He feels sorry for all those Venatori and Red Templars and Freemen who saw that look on her face before dying.

But even amidst that long-lasting rage and hurt, he sees her kindness and sweetness shining through her eyes. He softens and unfolds his arms, timidly reaching for her.

“ _Vhenan_ …”

But she abruptly gets up and says, her tone as cold as before: “I said it’s an order.”

Solas whines again.

He spends the next hours trying to make up with her. They never argued before and he is scared, nervous.

He doesn’t like this and he can see how Scarlet doesn’t either, but she is also genuinely offended and hurt and he realizes he has been too harsh.

He didn’t even thank her for helping him. He feels horrible.

Scarlet walks so fast, without pause, that she leaves them all behind and they manage to catch up with her only when she stops to harvest some plants or allows them to take a break.

Strangely, they haven’t met any Red Templar or Freeman and they are able to relax… at least physically, because Solas and Scarlet are a _mess_ , psychologically speaking, and Cole intervenes to help them.

He constantly moves from Scarlet to him, back and forward, forward and back, carrying lovely messages and reassurances, the words Solas isn’t able to pronounce, the ones both would like to say. He does so with a sort of antsy urgency, like a son that cannot bear the sight of his parents pouting at each other.

“He didn’t mean to offend you! He only wants to keep you safe, see you laugh and smile, not writhe in pain and cry.”

Scarlet doesn’t reply, but her face is flushed red, and Cole runs back to Solas, tugging at his sleeve.

“She knows you are worried for her. Daggers shining in the tall grass, she knows what to do, she knows how to fight. He just has to trust her. Even if she gets hurt, it doesn’t matter. She wants to help her friends. That’s what a leader does.”

Solas sighs and Cole panics, then runs back to Scarlet and the cycle begins anew.

In the end, Blackwall convinces him to stop and leave them alone.

They move a bit far from them and begin talking in soft, conspiratorial tones.

Sometimes Cole exclaims something or raises his voice with curiosity, but it’s not hard to imagine what Blackwall is trying to tell him.

Solas stares at Scarlet’s back for the whole time, unknowingly making puppy eyes at her. His hands twitch because he wants to hold hers.

At some point, when the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and the colors of the Emerald Graves turn amber and violet, he speeds up to reach her.

She glances at him for a second and he smiles. She blushes, but her stony expression doesn’t change and she goes back at looking at the path and trees in front of her.

He timidly brushes his hand against her right one. His fingers touch hers and his smile gets bigger, but it disappears immediately as she snaps at him and that murderous glare returns.

 _Don’t you even dare_ , it seems to say and she pulls her hand away. Solas babbles something and stops on his tracks, watching her go with sad, big eyes.

“Maker’s breath. Never saw her being so mad.” Blackwall mumbles next to him. They both observe her crouch near the roots of a tree to cut some Deep Mushrooms and put them in her pouch.

Cole helps her, trying once again to tell her how concerned and sorry Solas is and how much he loves her, and she sighs, although she doesn’t sound annoyed.

“I think”, Blackwall says with a smirk, scratching his cheek, “that you hurt her pride.”

Solas makes a low sound of agreement.

“I exaggerated.” he admits, rubbing his arm. “I chose the wrong words. I should have…” He sighs and shakes his head.

“I’m sure everything will get better once we reach the camp. A night in each other’s arms and you will settle this with kisses and those weird trips you take in the Fade.” Blackwall chuckles, patting his back, and Solas gives him a small, but grateful smile, hoping he is right.

They take a break again and sit on large white stones to eat something and rest their legs.

Blackwall and Cole go to a nearby stream to clean and refresh their feet - “And watch the silver, long fish!” -, but also to leave them alone. Solas starts making a flower crown, quiet, glancing at Scarlet once in a while.

After three or four times, he sees her looking at him. He smiles and she blushes, grumbling: “If that’s for me, you better think twice about it.”

He chuckles and adds a red flower.

“It’s for Cole.” he lies and doesn’t see the way her face falls and she looks at her boots.

“Oh. Good then.”

He chuckles again and she huffs, moving on the rock next to him. A moment of silence, then she says: “Give me your coat.”

He raises his eyes to her, surprised. Her face is redder and she is doing her best to appear angry and annoyed, but she isn’t succeeding.

His smile comes back, loving and tender, and she huffs again, tugging at his coat.

“It’s torn. Here, see? Give it to me.”

He complies and spends some minutes watching her sew the hole with expert, deft hands. It’s a fascinating sight, as always, but now it is even more beautiful because she looks serene and there is the hint of a smile on her lips.

He completes the flower crown and places it on her head, making her gasp.

“ _Ma vhenan_.” he starts, tenderness flowing in his heart and out of his mouth, but her face is redder than before and she shoves the coat on his face, hastily getting up and shouting at Cole and Blackwall that they need to keep going.

She slows down this time and even laughs with Cole when he tells her how nice the fish were. She keeps the flower crown on her head the whole time and Solas traces the thread she sewed on his coat with a smile.

 

\- - - -

 

As Blackwall predicted, they reach the Inquisition camp at night. Not late night, but the sun is down, a cold wind is blowing through the immense trees, and warm soup is boiling on the pot at the center of the camp.

Scarlet talks with the Inquisition agents, discusses the situation in the Emerald Graves with them, and checks out the requisitions before sitting in front of the fire with her companions and accepting a bowl of soup from Solas.

She mumbles a ‘thanks’ and scoots closer to him on the bench. He slightly leans closer so that his shoulder brushes against hers; the flower crown on her head catches the light of the fire and the petals look lacquered.

Cole is beaming at them both and even accepts to eat the rabbit soup which he initially refused.

Blackwall is the first one to yawn and say goodnight; Cole follows him after Scarlet has explained to him the joke she made earlier that morning. He turns to her and Solas with a big smile before disappearing into the tent he shares with the warrior.

Then Scarlet gets up too and announces she is going to sleep as well. She seems to tell it to the guards, but Solas catches the hint and candidly says he is sleepy too and will go with her.

She doesn’t even look at the crows squawking in their cage.

They remove the heaviest parts of their armors to sleep better; they do so silently, exchanging brief looks, and Scarlet’s blush deepens every time.

He goes near her and gently takes her hand. She lets him do so and any rage and hurt has gone from her face. He leans closer again and presses his lips on her nose, not daring go lower.

“ _Ma vhenan_.” he says softly, a whisper which carries all the love he feels for her. “Forgive me. I offended and hurt you.”

He brushes his fingertips where the gauzes are, happy to see them still clean. Healing magic surrounds his hand and her side and she sighs relieved, closing her eyes.

“Thank you.” she says, smiling at him, that sweet, lovely smile he can’t get enough of.

“Oh, _ma sa’lath_!” he exclaims, pulling her into a tight, gentle hug. He sighs happily when she wraps her arms around himself and squeezes him playfully.

“Thank you for helping me today.” he says, looking at her while he says so. Her smile gets shy and she looks away, but he raises her chin with two fingers and admires her red cheeks.

“Thank you.” he repeats, then his smile fades away. “But please, don’t risk your life for me. Don’t get hurt for me. I do not deserve it. I…”

He chokes up and hides his face against her neck, breathing in her scent and enjoying the feel of her hair on his cheek.

“Solas!” Scarlet whispers, gently rubbing a hand on his back and caressing his bald head with the other. “Solas, my love, don’t say that!”

He raises his head and sees her sadness and worry and kisses her nose again to make them go away.

“I cannot lose you.” he finally says. He is shaking and Scarlet holds him tighter. “I cannot. I know you are a formidable rogue, but losing you would…”

_It would kill me. It would be unbearable. It would annihilate me._

“You won’t lose me.” she promises, her smile coming back, and Solas is glad he cannot see her left hand, because he would burst into tears otherwise.

He is already on the verge of them, in fact.

“ _Vhenan_ , I did not mean to minimize your abilities in battle. You are quick and deadly and the enemies can hardly follow your movements. But those who can, those you choose to fight, they _can_ and they…”

He sighs and thumps his forehead against hers. They look into each other’s eyes and Scarlet gets bashful again.

“I guess I can be a bit reckless sometimes.” she admits timidly. Her smile turns sheepish. “Quite a lot, actually.”

Solas sniffles.

“Alright, this is what we will do.” She kisses his hand, which he moved to cup her cheek, and grins at him. “I swear I will fight the big, worst guys only if supported by a warrior and I won’t engage in battle with them alone. I won’t look for them.”

A grateful, relieved smile blooms on Solas’ face.

“But!” Scarlet raises her index finger and taps it on his nose. “I will intervene whenever you or another companion is in danger, no matter who the adversary is. Deal?”

Solas pouts. He thinks about it, makes a funny face which makes her giggle - so it’s totally worth it -, then he nods and replies: “Deal.”

They keep hugging each other. Scarlet puts the flower crown on his head and rests her head on his shoulder. He rests his cheek on the top of her head, kissing it every two minutes.

“This was our first argument.” she muses softly, eyes wide, and he hums.

“It was.”

“… I don’t like arguing with you.”

He sniffles again and tightens his arms around her.

“I hate arguing with you as well. It is quite horrible.” he agrees and she giggles, pecking his jaw. He retaliates with another kiss on her nose.

“Although making up is nice, I guess.” she says, then she bites her lips, looks at the freckles on his shoulder visible thanks to his lowered shirt, then raises her eyes to him again.

“Can I have that get-well kiss now?” she asks shyly and Solas feels like crying again, this time out of love and deep emotion.

“Oh, _vhenan_!” he exclaims and hurries to press fiercely his mouth on hers, melting in her arms and touch.

He makes sure to give her many, many more kisses that night, both in the waking world and the Fade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY AN UPDATE. Some health issues prevented me from posting this sooner. ;_;
> 
> Inspired by Solas' disapproval if you offer to sacrifice yourself at Haven to save the others and my style of gameplay - I basically fight everything and everyone who moves, it doesn't matter how big and strong they are. Scarlet fell unconscious on the battlefield more than once :'D


	5. Making Love

Going to bed is getting increasingly difficult.

Not because the stairs are many or the bed is uncomfortable. Nightmares and such aren’t a problem either, since Solas always finds her in the Fade and together they have the most wonderful of nights.

The main issue is another, one that Scarlet doesn’t even have the courage to address properly in her head, let alone face it with Solas himself or her friends.

She and Solas have been sleeping in the same bed for almost two months now and nearly all she can think about is his body pressed against hers, his hands touching her in ways she can barely picture, and his voice whispering sweet things in her ear.

She already felt his hard manhood pressed against her back, the morning after their first night spent in the same room. She remembers her surprise and excitement, mixed with a bit of fear that soon went away.

Since then, her thoughts have been… Her mother or the Keeper would probably define them _filthy_ , but Scarlet isn’t even sure _what_ the confused scenes in her head exactly mean.

She only has some general ideas of what might happen, of what sex is. Things glimpsed in her clan, when some of her friends went with their loved ones to frolic in the woods or in the grass tall; stuff she learned from her mother when she came of age and lessons given by the Keeper.

But they were just simple notions and she had to fill the blanks with her imagination, which sometimes couldn’t give her answers and only left her more confused than before. She didn’t even worry about it, since she found that nobody in the clan interested her, and then all the mess at the Temple of Sacred Ashes happened and…

And now she is Inquisitor, Solas is her mate, and she has no idea how to tell him she would like to feel his mouth on her breasts and his hand between her legs, that she wants to make him feel good and… and…

She has no idea how to tell him that _she doesn’t know how to do this._

Should she just ask him if he wants to make love too? Wouldn’t that be too bold and disrespectful? Would he be offended?

What if she assumed it wrong and he isn’t interested in _that_? What if he is scared by her lack of knowledge and experience or, worse, annoyed by it?

She can’t imagine him being annoyed by such a thing, though. Solas isn’t like that.

But again, she doesn’t know how this works, how this is supposed to be initiated. She doesn’t know how the other girls in her clan asked their mates to have sex, who asked it first, who made the first move. She didn’t know what happened beyond the closed doors of the aravels of the newly married couples.

Now she gets flustered more easily. Solas hugs her and kisses her during the day and all she wants to do is deepen their kisses and rub her hips against his, to feel the same hard length that was pressed against her butt time ago.

She wants to leave him breathless and make him moan and feel good. She wants to touch him and become one with him, give him her body and soul, feel his beautiful, calloused hands on her skin.

She tries to imagine how his body looks like almost every day. She knows he is much older than her and that detail only arouses her even more.

She imagines his broad hands on her breasts. She sees his smile and the wrinkles that form near his eyes and mouth as he leans down to kiss her. She pictures his body in her mind and thinks it’s probably toned, well-built after years spent in the forests and spinning his staff, but also somewhat tender, typical of a middle-aged man.

Does he have a soft tummy? He probably has and she wants to touch it and let him touch hers in return. She is sure he has freckles on other parts of his body too and she wants to kiss them and tell him how beautiful he is.

Sharing the bed and a tent with him has become almost unbearable. He seemingly suspects nothing and pulls her into a strong embrace, falling asleep like that after talking and laughing a bit, and Scarlet is left frozen in his arms, pressed against his chest with confused images and unclear scenes swirling in her head.

She catches glimpses of his back and legs when they are out on a mission and wash the blood of their battles in cold streams. She sees the beads of sweat and blood run down his neck when they are fighting enemies. She watches him open his jacket and robes a bit every time they have to go to the Western Approach and her mouth gets as dry as the sand around them.

Something happened a few days ago. She still feels like dying at the thought of it.

They all stopped by the pools of warm water in Emprise du Lion to recover from the terrible cold and relax their muscles, stiffened by the snow and the many battles they had already fought.

She was the only woman of the group, so she went to a separate pool alone and crouched behind a rock to undress herself. But then her curiosity got the best of her and even though she felt disgusting, she couldn’t help but peek out and watch what the men were doing.

She knew she risked to see something she didn’t absolutely want to see, like Bull and Varric’s bodies. But Solas was there with them, already busy taking off his robe and heavy sweater, and Scarlet focused entirely on him, forgetting about the others.

His back was turned to her and she was able to see it. Not particularly muscled, but definitely toned; she wasn’t sure, due to the distance, but she thought there were some scars on it, understandable considering his lifestyle.

Then she saw his butt. The most beautiful butt in the world, a masterpiece, a work of art. She had already looked at it while it was clothed, while Solas walked in front of her or bended over to pick up herbs.

But now it was naked and it was _perfect_. Toned, firm, a bit plump and well-shaped, with freckles dusted all over it.

Scarlet stared at it as if it was Arlathan itself in all its lost glory.

Then Solas turned and she barely had the time to hide back behind the boulder. She didn’t want to see his manhood like that. What she had done was already bad and disrespectful and Solas deserved better than be spied on.

Still, she couldn’t stop wondering what the rest of his body looked like. She bit her lips, cheeks on fire, the image of Solas’ naked back and ass burning in her mind like a vision.

“Wait.” she heard his voice say. “Where is the Inquisitor?”

Varric and Bull were already immersed in the pool and she heard the water move as they looked around.

“Maybe she’s still behind the rock…?”

“I…!” she started, then coughed to clear her throat and tried again: “I’m here, yes!”

Solas let out a relieved sigh and she heard him get into the water. She quickly undressed herself and ran into her own pool, whose sight was partially covered by other smaller rocks, which provided a sort of wall hiding her from the others.

The water was hot and incredibly relaxing: she felt like she was submerged in pure elfroot extract and her minor wounds and cuts stopped hurting almost immediately. Even her muscles stopped aching after a short while and she lied back against the stones, exhaling slowly…

… and thinking about Solas’ butt.

She could hear him and the others talk in their pool. It wasn’t much far, so their voices and words reached her without problems. She started washing her hair, trying not to eavesdrop, but it was inevitable.

Especially when Bull lowered his voice in a weird manner and began talking about her.

“She looks lonely there, Solas. Why don’t you go to her?”

She tensed up and pretended to be utterly busy with her hair. She had to use a tremendous amount of willpower not to turn and look at Solas’ face.

“That is…” she heard him babble, then he hissed: “That would be hardly appropriate.”

“Why?” Bull sounded surprised. “Dude, aren’t you two together? You should be there with her right now, massaging her shoulders and whispering dirty things in her ear!”

Scarlet bit her lips and looked down at the water, feeling ready to combust. Solas made a strange coughing sound.

“We are together.” he confirmed without hesitation. Then his voice turned strained again. “But that does not mean I can join her like that. It would be inappropriate all the same.”

A moment of silence passed, then Bull whistled and said: “Oh, I get it! You haven’t tumbled together under the sheets yet, right?”

Scarlet bended her knees and hid her face into them, swallowing a groan. She was sure the steam around her was actually produced by her and not the hot water.

In the distance, Solas seemed to choke on his own saliva and Varric sighed uncomfortably.

“That’s weird, though!” Bull continued, as if unaware of those reactions. “I could have sworn you two already had sex. I mean…”

He lowered his voice even more and Scarlet had to focus a lot to hear it. She stiffened, but didn’t move, not wanting to make them understand she was listening.

“The Inquisitor is clearly sending you signals, man.”

Scarlet gasped at that. Someone shuffled in the men’s pool, then Varric hissed through gritted teeth: “Maybe you should drop this, Tiny. It’s not our business.”

“Oh, come on!” More water moving, then Bull continued annoyed: “Either Solas is blind or he is making the boss wait so much to give her the best time of her life!”

She was sure he was wiggling his eyebrows now, but she had no idea how Solas could look.

“She has been making doe-eyes at you for months. She is basically walking around with a giant _‘fuck me, Solas’_ sign on her forehead. Every time you smile at her or touch her, she babbles and stares at you like you are one of her elven gods in the flesh!”

Oh Creators, she wasn’t that obvious and indiscreet, was she? Had everyone noticed her behavior except for Solas? Or had he been aware too and had politely ignored her embarrassing, childish, longing glances?

Solas sounded like he was about to run away, outraged, or sink into the pool to never resurface.

“I-I…” he started, then a pause, then he heatedly concluded: “Master Tethras is right. This does not concern you and the place and time are not apt for this conversation.”

“Stop it, Tiny. Chuckles has gotten all red and the Inquisitor can hear us.” Varric insisted, his voice barely audible.

“Talk to her, man!” Bull ignored them, smashing a hand on the water. “She is gonna burst sooner or later!” A pause, then his tone got mischievous: “Say, you aren’t worried about your age difference, are you?”

A pause, filled with Solas’ icy silence and Varric’s groan. Then Bull started chortling.

“She is turned on by that, everyone knows it! She doesn’t even see the young elves trying to flirt with her at Skyhold!”

She frowned. Young men? What young men?

Solas took a long intake of breath. When he spoke next, he sounded like a growling animal, and Scarlet squirmed in the water, aware of her own nudity, of Solas’, of his voice.

“We will not discuss this anymore.”

“Talk to her, Solas.” Bull repeated and it sounded like he was finally accepting to drop the topic. “Talk to her and give her what she wants.”

A pause, then she _heard_ the Qunari’s smug grin as he added: “You, in case that wasn’t clear.”

And he did talk to her later. More or less.

After hours spent in the snow, with a flustered Scarlet avoiding him and Bull pestering him with glares and blatant gestures with his hands, Solas joined her in their tent in one of the Inquisition camps and kissed her cheek.

Scarlet jumped and turned to him with wide eyes and a cloth-tearing grip on her heavy jacket.

He looked worried, perhaps a bit sad, but also sweet and caring like usual and he lifted his hand to caress her cheek and wipe away snow from it.

“ _Ma vhenan_.” he said. “Are you alright?”

She nodded fast, hoping her smile was convincing enough, then she punctually got lost into his eyes and the little wrinkles surrounding them.

She imagined him on top of her, thrusting into her. That’s how it happened, right? Then she thought about making him moan and reach what her mother had called the _climax_ \- and she blushed so hard Solas grew worried.

“You are hot!” he gasped, moving his hand to her forehead. “Did you fall ill? Are you feeling unwell?”

“N-No!” she reassured him, sliding his hand back on her cheek. “I am fine, Solas. I’m just a bit tired. It’s been a long day.”

He brushed a long finger along her ear, making her snort, and a small smile curled his lips as he replied: “Indeed.”

But then he got serious again and studied her face with a look akin to wonder and sorrow that she didn’t know how to react to. She took his other hand and entwined her fingers with his, while pressing her face further into his palm.

“I’m fine, Solas.” she repeated, even though the words she wanted to say were others. Her smile broadened. “Don’t worry.”

Overwhelmed by his gaze, she looked away, but she didn’t miss the blush on his cheeks. She saw the way his ears had gotten an adorable shade of crimson and she brought his hand to her mouth to kiss his knuckles.

He let out a weird sound, a mix between a sigh and a croak, then he pressed his lips on hers and she risked to melt. She felt on the verge of exploding and she nearly threw her arms around him, anything just to be closer to him and press their bodies together.

Would he blush like that in bed? She thought so. She wanted him to feel good, happy, loved, she wanted to kiss and embrace him for hours, for all eternity, and tell him he wasn’t alone.

She knew how men looked like, of course. She had seen pictures, she had heard her friends’ descriptions, and she thought she could do a decent job in giving Solas pleasure.

She was a bit scared about the idea of putting his manhood… _there_ , but she also knew Solas would be gentle, patient, kind like always. She knew it and she wanted nothing more than make love to him and worship him with every kiss and touch.

Her friends had said all people made a certain face when they reached their climax. She wondered what Solas’ face was. What about the _sounds_ he would make?

She couldn’t help but deepen the kiss and Solas responded in kind, using his tongue to tease hers.

He tasted like the bread they had eaten before and the berries he carried around to share them with her - knowing she liked them - or simply to chew something sweet during their trips.

The hand on her cheek went on her waist, then on the small of her back, and Scarlet made a step forward, moaning softly.

Then Solas’ hand went on her butt, cupping it, and she instinctively slipped her knee between his legs. She felt his hard length only for a few seconds before he abruptly broke the kiss and pulled away, breathing heavily.

He looked nearly scared and Scarlet went pale, fearing the worst. Had she offended him? Was it her fault? Had he truly noticed her behavior and ignored it because he didn’t want to have sex with her?

She knew the body could react in certain ways if teased, but that didn’t mean the person in question was actually aroused or willing to continue. Was his body excited only because of the simple act of kissing?

She started to doubt herself. Perhaps he really was frightened by their age difference. Perhaps he didn’t find her alluring. Perhaps he didn’t feel sure due to her lack of experience.

Solas always treated her gently, she always saw his love for her shine in his eyes and in every gesture, but she started to panic and any reasonable thought left her mind.

She was about to excuse herself and flee the tent, when Solas seemed to predict her intentions and grabbed her right hand again, panicking as much as her.

“ _Vhenan_!” he almost shouted, then calmed down, swallowed, and repeated more softly: “ _Vhenan_. Don’t go.”

She timidly looked up at him, then back at their joined hands. Hers was smaller and her fingers were held tightly and safely by his, which were longer and visibly older, not the fingers, not the hand of a young man.

And she was happy of that. She didn’t want someone else, a _younger_ else, she didn’t want anyone but Solas. She wanted him and only him, in any possible way, but she didn’t have the courage to pronounce those words, to let them out, so she smiled at him and saw that he was as torn as her.

By what, though, she couldn’t say.

“I…” he started, but she interrupted him before he could continue.

“Let’s go to bed, _ma sa’lath_.” she said and even though that _technically_ was what she wanted - to ‘tumble together under the sheets’ like Bull had said -, it wasn’t exactly the same thing and Solas understood that.

He blushed when she shyly kissed his lips again - a chaste kiss that didn’t lead to anything else - and he kept blushing as they slipped inside their bedrolls and he hugged her close to himself.

He watched her for the whole time and every time she tried to start a conversation or make him laugh, he continued to stare at her and she finally saw the contrasting emotions that were devouring him: fear and love, the same as hers, and she felt the urge to throw her arms around his neck and hug him tightly.

She did so, without initiating anything of course, and she said softly, a whisper carrying all her adoration for him: “I love you, Solas.”

And when she pulled away, she saw his blush had reached every part of his face and head and had gone down to his neck. His eyes looked shiny, almost glossy, and she kissed them to chase away the tears.

She felt like crying too. She didn’t like that situation: it was awkward, things were unclear and unsaid out of fear and self-doubts, and she had no idea how to approach him, how not to feel like a stupid child.

In the end, the trip back to Skyhold was quiet, except for Bull’s constant jokes and innuendos and Varric’s attempts to make everyone smile.

Scarlet and Solas started behaving like they had done before the start of their relationship. They were awkward and timid, stole quick glances and touches, not sure how to make the next step, afraid of offending or hurting the other.

It was like they were walking on eggshells and at night things would get even weirder: Solas would never stop watching her and Scarlet would feel feverish just by standing so close to him.

 

\- - - -

 

Just a few days have passed since their return from Emprise du Lion and Scarlet is sure she will go insane.

Solas always rolls up the sleeves of his sweater when he paints and she has to bite the inside of her mouth to take her eyes off from his forearms.

He licks his fingers and lips after eating something sweet, like a frilly cakes, a tart, or a biscuit, and she can just watch from the couch in the rotunda as fire burns in her groin and her blood rushes like a waterfall in her ears.

He _always_ senses her eyes. His head always snaps to where she is and she barely has the time to pretend to be still reading, writing, or sewing.

She starts reading smutty books and romance novels to better understand what to do in such a situation. Her moments with Solas are good as always, but she fumbles around, she is tense and almost scared, and he notices it all.

It can’t go on like this, so she decides to learn all that she can about sex, gather all her courage, and then ask Solas if he would be interested in doing _that_ with her. Should he accept, she would be ready to give him pleasure thanks to the knowledge she acquired and not cause a disaster.

The first book shocks, confuses, and intrigues her all at the same time. She can see it’s not high quality literature, but she assumes - _hopes_ \- that the sex scenes described in it are realistic and plausible.

She learns new terms. She learns things her Keeper and her mother didn’t tell her. She understands what most of the scenes she glimpsed in the forest were. She even sneaks into the library at night while nobody is around to read some ‘professional’ books and learn more about anatomy too.

All that remains is ask Solas if he would like to make love with her.

She tries every night before going to sleep. Solas knows something is deeply _haunting_ her, but doesn’t force her to talk about it.

She’d rather he did that. No matter how many times she tries, no matter how she starts, she always ends up changing topic or dropping the one she so much wants to face with him. She shivers with pleasure when he touches her to kiss her goodnight, she blushes and plays with the buttons of his night clothes when they are in bed, and he stares at her.

Always, every night, he watches her intently, fingertips idly tracing her lips or nose, caressing her. Her heart beats like a hammer and her hands clutch tightly his clothes as she desperately attempts to come up with good, decent words to express her feelings.

Solas blushes too, a lot. When she timidly kisses him goodnight or nuzzles his neck, she sees a deep shade of red tint his face and his expression soften even more. He always does that, it’s like he is positively overwhelmed by her touch and fed, rejuvenated, _saved_ by it.

At least, she can give him that, she thinks as she desperately kisses him and hugs him, trying to convey all her love and desire for him through heated smooches and tender cuddles.

Sometimes her fantasies become even wilder: she dreams of motherhood, of Solas’ smiling mouth on her swollen belly, of their first night together as a married couple.

 _Vhenan’ara_ , she thinks when she looks at him. Heart’s desire. Not just a physical desire, but something more, the wish to become one with him in both spirit and body.

And then one morning, she feels and sees his morning wood - a new word she learned - again as she wakes up.

It’s there, pressed against her ass just like Solas’ mouth is pressed on her neck. He is still sleeping soundly and Scarlet slowly, one inch at a time, turns on her other side and swallows.

Solas keeps snoring lightly and walking through the Beyond, and she gingerly lifts the blanket, peering under it.

And here is the outline of his cock again, thick, bulging through his thin pants. She can see his… what was the word again? _Sack_ , she can see that too, and her heart beats faster, her breathing gets quicker.

She wants to touch it, but she can’t. She can’t do that to Solas, she would never touch him like that without his permission.

So she touches herself. She lifts her nightgown with a trembling hand and teases her entrance through her smalls. At least she tries to, because she never really did it before, too scared by the idea of slipping her fingers all the way in into her womanhood, although she brushed them against the outer lips when her desire for Solas was too strong to be ignored.

Still, she didn’t receive much relief and satisfaction from doing that and even now, despite being so near Solas, she can’t focus and pleasure doesn’t come easily.

She is afraid he is going to wake up any moment now. She is scared of what he might think, of what he might say, seeing her like this.

She imagines this is Solas’ hand, although it doesn’t feel as big as his. She closes her eyes for a second as a spark of bliss burns her and she pretends Solas is whispering dirty things in her ear, the same she read in those books.

_“Your cunt is so soft. Can you feel how it opens for me? Spread your legs and show it to me.”_

Scarlet whimpers and one of her finger slips beneath her smalls. Would Solas say those things to her? Or would he use different words? Would he be quiet or tell her many things?

She glances down at his dick. She wants it inside her. She wants to stroke it, see if Solas has freckles there too, massage his sack, kiss his chest.

Her nipples are hard and she wants him to touch them, to _lick_ them. Her breasts are small - _too small?_ , she wonders with horror -, but she hopes he would like them the same, should they make love someday.

Then she looks up at him and stops. Solas is sleeping peacefully and she feels _filthy_.

She is staring at him and masturbating while he is asleep. When did she get so low? Has she truly lost all her decency just because her loins are on fire and her heart and mind can’t stop thinking about him?

Ashamed, she pulls down her nightgown and puts the blanket back how it was before; she glances at Solas, face burning, then timidly grabs his shirt, pinching it between her thumb and index finger, to feel him, since she doesn’t dare cuddle against him again.

She closes her eyes and falls asleep like that, hoping her dreams won’t show him anything embarrassing.

 

\- - - -

 

They are awakened by Josephine almost an hour later.

The Ambassador doesn’t enter, but she knocks on the door insistently and calls out for the Inquisitor. Important guests have come in visit without providing any advance notice and Scarlet’s presence is required downstairs as soon as possible.

“Understood!” Scarlet shouts back as she jumps out of bed, while a grumpy Solas sits up with a grunt and looks around with bleary eyes, annoyed by Josephine’s loud interruption.

He catches Scarlet’s wrist as she passes near him smiling and saying: “Good morning, _vhenan_!”

Her cheeks are red and there is still that odd… _panic_ in her eyes. He knows what is causing her to feel this way.

He didn’t miss her looks, now as shy as the time before the start of their relationship. He didn’t miss the way she fumbles with her words or steals quick glances of him as he is busy with something. He knows what burns in her heart every night when they go to bed, because it’s the same desire that burns in his.

But would it be right? Would it be right to soil her body and soul with less than chaste touches? He will have to leave once the Orb is back in his hands. He will have to proceed with his plans.

What then? She would only feel disgusted, hate him and hate herself, and she would regret their time together, the memories of bliss spent in bed would become bitter and poisonous to her heart and mind.

Also, there is the matter of their age difference. Bull wasn’t completely wrong when he brought it up.

Solas didn’t forget Scarlet is _infinitely_ younger than him and even if his are the looks of a middle-aged man, it’s still a great visible difference. She is young, lively, and the sun seems to shine brighter when she is around.

He feels - _he is_ \- old, grim, a slow wolf walking near the boundaries of dreams. There are wrinkles on his face, hands, and heart - although it’s true he feels younger, even more optimistic, since he is with Scarlet - and he doesn’t want his burden to crush her too.

So, even though his dreams and thoughts have been increasingly _obscene_ in the last days, much to his shame, he doesn’t dare say anything. He doesn’t deserve what she so desperately wishes to give him. Once things are over, she will be happy to have not made love with him and given him the immense privilege of being her first and filling her with his seed.

She will find a younger man who will heal her heart and she will donate him that gift she cherished for her true mate only.

The mere idea of Scarlet with someone else makes Solas feel like he is dying.

What… what if he won’t need to leave? What if there is another way? What if she - who surprises him day after day with her wisdom, kindness, and brilliance - believes him, accepts him, and together they find another, better path that will save the elven people?

What if he _can_ stay with her?

He realizes he has been staring at her for the whole time, lost in thought, and she is getting worried and nervous. She is still wearing her lovely nightgown and Solas admires the lovely shape of her breasts, the contour of her hips and waistline, her neck, until his eyes reach her face and he sees her blushing and looking at him with big golden eyes.

Without breaking eye contact, he slowly leans in until his mouth is pressed on her belly. It’s soft, because that’s where her womb is, and he feels his pants grow tight as Scarlet gasps and her fingers dig into his forearm.

Would she moan loudly as he thrusted into her? Would she whisper sweet things in his ear, like those that make him feel so loved and happy? Would freckles be on her collarbone and inside her thighs too? How does her quim look like?

He moans softly, a nearly inaudible thing, but she hears it the same and her blush spreads to her neck as her mouth hangs slightly open and she has no idea what to do.

He keeps planting open-mouth kisses on her belly, then moves her right hand - which he is still holding - near his cheek. He pulls away from her body and kisses her fingers, causing her to gasp and babble: “S-Solas!”

Her fingers taste differently than usual, but he doesn’t mind it. His mouth soon is back on her belly and his kisses become more heated, passionate, with a clear message behind them.

She is standing near him, while he is still sitting in bed, and he doesn’t get up: he wants her to be in charge, he wants her to know that she controls this and can tell him to stop whenever she wants.

Scarlet swallows and her hands timidly go behind his head, pulling him closer, then her sweaty palms tenderly massage his neck and bald head. She is breathing a bit heavily and a wet mark is forming on the nightgown where Solas is kissing her.

“ _Vhenan’ara_.” he murmurs. He desires her, in every way, with every possible meaning, and Scarlet’s eyes are even wider than before and she almost stumbles forward.

“Tell me what you want.” Solas says, watching her, never moving his eyes away from hers. His hand goes up, follows the lithe lines of her body until it reaches the underside of her left breast.

He doesn’t touch it without her permission. She looks too stunned to speak and his own heart is threatening to burst, so he timidly moves his hand to the small buttons she sewed on the nightgown to keep it closed and unbuttons the first one.

“ _Ma vhenan_. Tell me what you want.” he repeats, his voice softer than before, above a whisper. “I will stop immediately if this is not what you desire.”

She shakes her head, then, fearing he might misunderstand, adds with a shaky voice: “Please, don’t stop.”

Her hands now are touching his ears, her calloused thumbs are stroking his cheekbones, and Solas lets out a small, happy sigh, blushing as much as her. He kisses her chest, careful to avoid her breasts in case that is too much and she doesn’t want that yet, then unbuttons the next button too.

And then he sees the first glimpse of her naked breast and pink nipple and he is utterly, completely in awe.

He wants to lay her down on the bed and worship her. He wants to learn all the secrets of her body, all the parts that make her giggle and laugh, all the places where her tender flesh makes her moan and buck into his mouth when it’s kissed.

“My heart.” he moans. His hand gently slips into her nightgown and Scarlet, shaking and breathing as heavily as him, gasps.

Solas’ broad hand cups her breast, his fingers brush against her nipple, and he moans again as she presses herself incredibly close to him and wraps her arms around his neck.

“Solas!” she calls, her expression a mix of excitement, sheer surprise, and a bit of fear. “Solas, I…”

He removes his hand immediately, afraid of having hurt or frightened her, but she whines and puts it back on her breast.

They stare at each other, dumbfounded, breathless.

“I do not deserve you, _vhenan_.” Solas says and he draws his hand away a second time. He is scared again. He doesn’t want to hurt her. Not now, not ever. He doesn’t want her to regret this.

But then she leans down and presses a kiss on the top of his bald head.

She is smiling brightly and he can only gawk at her.

“I want you, Solas.” she finally says and he is, once again, completely in awe, lost in wonder and surprise. Even though he understood why she was acting like that, hearing her say it so explicitly still shocks him.

She wants _him_. Solas, the hobo elven apostate. Would she want Solas, the Dread Wolf, too?

He is not worthy of her.

His blush spreads all over his face and chest and he gets up, hands shaking, staring at her with a look of utter love in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” she continues, her smile replaced by a sheepish, embarrassed face. “I tried to tell you before, but… I wasn’t sure you were interested or… or wanted me and…”

“Silly girl.” he says, voice hoarse. “I have desired you for a long time, _vhenan_ , more than you can imagine.”

“I can imagine it quite well, actually.” she giggles, her face turning beetle red, and Solas can see the relief flowing through her now that she finally revealed to him what she wants and has been reassured.

Then he realizes what she just said and grins, despite himself. His hands move to her waist and he teases her with a quick kiss, asking: “And what, exactly, did you imagine, _vhenan_?”

She splutters and refuses to answer and he laughs, pulling her into a strong embrace and a deep, aroused kiss.

She feels his painful erection pressed against her body and gasps into his mouth. He pulls away instantly, fearing he embarrassed her, but she is actually looking down at it with wonder and curiosity together.

He realizes again how young and innocent she is and how wicked _he_ is, wicked and disgusting.

But if another way exists, if another path to save the elves exists, maybe he won’t have to-

“Scarlet.” he says gently, raising her head and cradling it in his hands. “My love. I am much older than you.”

She frowns and replies with confidence: “I don’t care about that, Solas. I don’t mind it.” Then her face falls. “Do you?”

He smiles and raises his eyebrows. “I don’t mind it either.”

Scarlet smiles back, flustered, and mumbles: “I love our age difference.”

Solas grins and kisses her nose, but then gets serious again and continues softly: “I don’t want you to regret this, _vhenan_. There is no turning back if we…”

“Solas, I won’t regret it. How could I?” She strokes his cheek, then brings one of his hands to her mouth to kiss it. Her smile comes back, bigger than before. “I love you.”

He melts and all his doubts and fears are forgotten, shadow destroyed by the ray of light that she is.

“Oh, my love.” he whispers, choked up. He pulls her again into a tight hug and she laughs as he peppers her cheek with kisses.

“ _Ar lath, ma sa’lath_.” he says. “ _Bellanaris, bellanaris_.”

They are overjoyed and if there weren’t nobles waiting downstairs for her, it’s clear Scarlet would jump back into bed with him.

But it’s also clear that won’t be possible, at least for now. Josephine has come back and her knocks on the door are more impatient and panicked than before.

“Inquisitor, please! A Duke from Montsimmard keeps asking for you!”

“I’m coming!” Scarlet replies and when she turns back to Solas, she sees his roguish smirk and dark eyes.

“You are going to say that a lot tonight, _vhenan_.” he promises and she blinks, confused for a moment, before spluttering and babbling something while Solas _giggles_ with his lips pressed on her cheek.

She still has to change into something more suitable; she is about to remove her nightgown in front of him, but he stops her, smiling.

“No, my love. I want to admire your naked beauty tonight, without haste.”

Scarlet smiles back and kisses him before entering one of the two closets in the room with clothes in her arms. When she comes out, Solas is waiting for her near the stairs.

She throws her nightgown on the bed and runs to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him tightly, laughing happily.

“Oh, I am going to think about you for the whole day!” she exclaims, bouncing on her feet. Then she admires the dimples on his cheeks just like he admires hers and adds softly, stars in her eyes: “I… I will see you at lunch then.”

“Yes. Come visit me in the rotunda if you have time too.” He kisses her forehead and his smile is kind and mischievous at the same time. “Try not to get tired, _vhenan_. We have much to do tonight.”

She giggles and Solas has to kiss and hold her again, the urge too strong to be ignored, his need for her, for her laughter, smile, and kisses too powerful.

“ _Ar lath, ma vhenan_.” she says, radiant, and he has to use all his willpower to let her go down the stairs.

His blush punctually returns and it gets even redder as she waves at him before opening the door.

They smile like two dorks for the whole day.

 

\- - - -

 

It’s late when they finally retire for the night, walking up the stairs of the Inquisitor’s - _their_ \- room hand in hand.

Scarlet is shaking again and she is paler than usual, while Solas’ hand is sweaty, despite his seemingly relaxed expression.

She has been overjoyed for the entire day, carrying her enthusiasm and emotions everywhere around the fortress, surprising her companions - who knows she is usually more reserved than that - and the nobles who never saw her be so extroverted.

But now she is back to her usual timid self again and her trepidation mixed with various fears is evident on her face.

They reach the top of the stairs and she smiles at him with suns in her eyes and fire all into her body. He reaches for her other hand and then rests his forehead on hers, smiling.

“I…” she starts, before stopping, taking a deep breath, and trying again: “I… I don’t know how to do this.”

Solas kisses her forehead, then nods at the bed, his smile sweeter.

“I believe we should start by sitting on the bed.”

“Oh! Right!” She lightens up and all but rushes to the bed with him, sitting on the edge of it with a confident, radiant smile.

One step closer to the main objective, she seems to think, and Solas chuckles, touched by her endearing behavior.

He hasn’t changed his mind. Surprisingly, his usually grim mind hasn’t convinced him this might lead to trouble during the day and he feels ready to give her the best night he is can.

He only wants to make sure she is still sure about this as well.

“My love.” he says and she immediately gets more attentive, even leaning in to listen better. “Do you still want to do this? We cannot go back once…”

“Of course I do!” she exclaims, surprised that he even asked. “Solas, I want you.” She scoots closer to him and grips tightly his hands. Her cheeks are two glowing red dots now.

“More than anything else in the world.”

His heart swells at that and he can’t breathe. Even when he was only Solas and not Fen’Harel yet, nobody ever treated him with much respect in Elvhenan. His ideas were deemed foolish and dangerous even there and to hear these words, pronounced by Scarlet, is… is overwhelming and precious and beautiful all the same.

He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve her. Now, more than ever, this is clear.

Is there a way for him to become worthy? Can he do something to be a better man and give her a better life, a life where they can be together?

Choked up, he reaches for her and pulls her into his arms; he raises a hand to stroke her cheek, then kisses her, a deep kiss that leaves her breathless and excited, hungry for more.

“I-I read some books.” she blurts out as soon as they pull away. He blinks, not having expecting that, and she continues, looking at the buttons of his sweater, red hair falling like a protective curtain near her face:

“I’m not sure how reliable they are, but I think I know more about the basics now. But…” She finally raises her eyes to him and swallows, looking mortified. “The women in those books were described in a… certain way. They were great at this, even if some of them were virgins, and they were beautiful and alluring, with great breasts and child-bearing hips.”

“ _Vhenan_.” Solas says, both sternly and gently, frowning a little. “Don’t ever doubt your beauty. You are wonderful and the protagonists of those books are described in that way only for literary purposes.”

“It’s just…” She smiles at him, proud of _him_ and happy. “ _You_ are so beautiful and sometimes I fear I’m not enough for you. I was scared of disappointing you, so I read those books, but I can’t change my looks and…”

Him? Beautiful? He was never called that before. He doesn’t even consider himself like that, knowing his appearances are actually odd: his long face and bald head never made a great impression on anyone.

Except for Scarlet. She is looking at him in such a way, with so much wonder and love, that he gets flustered and opens and closes his mouth a few times before being able to reply.

“Scarlet.” he gently interrupts her. He smiles and shakes his head, unable to believe someone like her actually wants someone like him.

Some of his fears come back. He is only going to soil her, make her feel dirty. She will regret this, she will hate him even more once it’s over and she will have discovered who he is and what he has to do.

Then hope comes back too, on time like always, as if lured in by the cold shadow of fear lurking in his head.

This is important to Scarlet - and to him too. If he suddenly steps back now, she will believe it’s her fault and will feel miserable.

He cannot do that to her. Now they are here, on her - _their_ \- bed and changing idea is not an option anymore. He prays he will be able to fix things in the future, to make her suffer less, to not make her suffer _at all_.

“You are perfect in every way and you must never doubt this.” he says softly, watching her cheeks get red and her eyes widen with a smile. “I will worship you tonight, _ma sa’lath_.”

She is at loss for words for a long second, then smiles as well and replies with equal tenderness:

“Only if you will let me do the same to you, _vhenan_.”

He blushes and a surge of emotion risks to overwhelm him again, like a tall wave, but he doesn’t choke on the happy sob building in his throat and nods.

She hesitates for a short while and he gives her all the time she needs, without hurry. She slowly reaches for his sweater and pinches it between her index finger and thumb.

“May I?” she asks and Solas answers with a chuckle and a second nod. He raises his arms as she pulls up the sweater and lets her remove it completely; he now sits wearing only his leather straps, his pants, and his jawbone pendant.

The straps are tighter and more difficult to take off, so he helps her. He stays perfectly still as she observes his naked chest and, once again, feels ugly, both inside and outside, but this time especially outside.

He knows he has the body of a middle-aged man who in reality is even older. He knows he isn’t that much well-built and his toned muscles are being replaced by softer flesh and a bit of tummy, probably caused by his age and too many frilly cakes.

He wonders how she can consider him _beautiful_ when he looks like that. He thinks of the young men fighting for her attention every day - Loranil, one of the merchants in the courtyard, the bolder nobles, even Cillian - and feels like an old beast with rabies.

Scarlet is still staring at him, _awe_ in her eyes, and she timidly brings a hand to his chest to brush her fingertips on it.

“I…” Solas babbles. He clears his throat. “I looked better when I was younger.”

As soon as those words leave his mouth, he wants to set himself on fire or jump down of one of the balconies.

 _‘Of course, you fool!’_ he inwardly groans, cursing himself. _‘Of course you looked better centuries ago! Everyone does, what are you even trying to say?’_

Then Scarlet giggles.

She leans in to kiss his chest and he babbles some more, one of his hands snapping forward to grab her shirt, as if to feel safer.

“You have freckles everywhere!” she says happily, beaming at him. She goes back to kiss his chest and Solas feels like fainting or something close to it. It’s like their roles are reversed: now he is the flustered, timid, stammering one, although Scarlet hasn’t lost any of her shyness.

In fact, she is as red as him.

Her smile is sweeter and not surprised at all when she brings her hand lower to touch his belly.

There are little, faint scars on his body and his skin is not as elastic as it was once, but she doesn’t seem bothered by it; on the contrary, she looks even more excited than before. She chuckles and grins at him, before poking his stomach and making him squeal.

“I knew you had a soft tummy.” she grins, before kissing his shoulder.

“Too many sweets.” Solas grumbles under his breath, but Scarlet looks _elated_ and gives him a long-lasting kiss which makes their heads dizzy and light.

“I _love_ it.” she whispers, her full lips brushing against his, and Solas’ heart skips a beat as he stares into her kind, loving eyes. Her fingers gently caress his cheek. “And you look beautiful, Solas.”

He is going to cry soon and he can’t let that happen. He swallows his tears of joy and a shaky smile curls his lips, although there is still a thin, visible veil across his eyes and his face is all red.

“That is my line.” he says hoarsely and Scarlet laughs again as he raises his hand and caresses her cheek in return. She bites her lower lip when two of his fingers tease her ear and he wants to kiss her again.

And so he does, gasping surprised as she timidly slips her tongue into his mouth.

Her hands goes to his chest, warm palms resting on it, and he is sure she can feel his heart beat without control. His own hands are on her waist, trembling, because he wants to touch her and _see_ her.

“ _Vhenan_.” he breathes out, roaming his hands on her back, not wanting to upset or scare her with unsolicited touches. “ _Vhenan_ , may I…”

He glances down at her shirt for a second, his mouth refusing to cooperate, but Scarlet understands the same and her smile changes a bit, turning timid and even a bit sheepish, as if she already wants to apologize for what he is about to see.

He presses a reassuring peck on her lips, then slowly, almost cautiously, moves his hands on the buttons of her shirt. He waits some seconds, in case she still isn’t sure and wants to change her mind; once he is sure she wants to continue, he does so, unclasping the first button like he did that morning with the ones of her nightgown.

He is going to burst. That, or he will faint, he is sure of that.

Scarlet looks as excited and nervous as him and her hands, resting on her lap, won’t stop shaking.

Solas presses small, light kisses on her face as he keeps unbuttoning her shirt; he stops half-way, much to her surprise, to take her hands and gently place them on his waist to help her distract herself.

“There.” he says with a smile, resuming his work with the buttons. “I was already missing your touch.”

She laughs softly and promptly traces his muscles and lines of his body with her fingers and seems to calm down.

She grows worried again, though, when Solas opens her shirt and her breastband is visible to him.

“Wait, let me…” She wriggles a little to take off her shirt, but accidentally hits Solas on the stomach with her elbow and her panic rises.

“S-Sorry!” she babbles, staring at him, as if she has just stabbed him.

A surge of emotion fills Solas’ heart and he smiles at her, while gently and quietly pulling away the shirt still hanging loose from her shoulders and throwing it atop of his sweater on the floor.

He sees the decorations on her breastband, but avoids staring at them too much, not wanting to embarrass her; she is already anxious enough and she is looking at everything but him.

Her cheeks are red, but the rest of her face is pale and Solas slowly wraps his arms around her, careful not to startle her.

Scarlet gasps all the same, but hugs him back without hesitating.

“My love.” he whispers in her ear. Her small breasts are pressed against his chest and a warm shiver runs down his spine. “May I?”

She nods, looks about to say something, but then changes her mind and nods again.

He feels the clasp of her breastband under his hand and tries to open it, all while smiling at her and brushing his lips on her forehead to reassure her.

Then he frowns and tugs at the clasp. It stubbornly refuses to move.

“Uh.” He looks beyond her shoulder to see what the problem is. “This is harder than I thought.”

“You thought about this before?” Scarlet asks, voice muffled, and Solas freezes.

He _did_. Before falling asleep or while he was at his desk. He did think about slowly undressing her and making her feel good, either with his hands or cock.

Sometimes he even imagined using his tongue, but it’s still too early for that. He forced himself not to think about those things, for multiple reasons, one of them being his respect for Scarlet, another his terrible fears and doubts about the future.

Also he always got _hard_ and that was hardly appropriate, especially in a public space like the rotunda.

“I…” he starts, then falls silent. He tries to unlock the clasp again, to no avail, and he can’t use that as an excuse to change topic. She is waiting for an answer, so he blurts out:

“I thought about this many times before, yes.”

Scarlet doesn’t reply, but he can feel her tremble again. Is she offended? Is she getting worried and nervous due to the wait and this little inconvenience? Is she changing her mind?

Solas starts sweating and his tugs at the clasp become more insistent, but the damn thing just doesn’t want to open. Scarlet hides her face into his neck and he begins to panic.

“Wait, I… I think I know what to do.” he lies, having absolutely no idea how this _contraption_ works.

He pulls at it one, two, three, _four_ times and then…

And then he hears a horrible, tearing sound.

The silver clasp falls onto his hand while Scarlet’s breastband falls and she bursts into a happy, loud laughter.

He realizes she was shaking because of mirth and not fear; there are tears in her eyes as she pulls away to look at him, but they are caused by joy and amusement.

She brings her hands to her mouth to cover her laughter, forgetting about her bare chest, and Solas, despite his shame and embarrassment, snorts and looks at the clasp in his hand.

“I… I am sorry.” he says sheepishly, his smile broadening as Scarlet cackles and falls back on the bed.

He grins and lies down his side, propping himself on his elbow to look at her. Scarlet’s giggles and laughs slowly subside, until she is left breathless and flushed.

“It’s alright, Solas.” she pants, grinning at him. “I’ll sew it back later.”

She sees his tender look, notices how his eyes never wander lower, and gasps, realizing her current state of undress.

She looks at her bare chest and then back at him, waiting for his comment with hopeful eyes.

Solas delicately traces the underside of her breasts like he did that morning, watching her reactions; when he is sure she is enjoying this, he touches her nipples and Scarlet gasps and bucks into his hand as if burned.

But it's a _pleasant_ burning and her hands claw the sheets as he gently cups her left breast and massages it.

The hand he was using to prop himself is now caressing her hair and a timid, but bright smile blooms on Scarlet’s face.

“You are beautiful, _vhenan_.” Solas says, awe and wonder in his voice and eyes.

She is. She is absolutely stunning, perfect, and he loves every part of her.

He runs a finger down the space between her breasts, tickling her, and she giggles, before biting her lips as he brings that same finger back on her nipple.

“We are still wearing our pants.” she says and he nods slowly, carefully bringing the finger to the upper part of her breast. Then he cups it to massage it again and she moans.

His breathing gets heavier and his eyes dark. That sound shook him to his very core and he wants to hear it again. He wants to…

He wants to kiss her _there_ and so he does, never breaking eye contact; he leans down until his mouth is on her nipple and then sucks lightly.

The breath that Scarlet was holding comes out through the same moan from before and her hand searches blindly for his on her other breast.

Solas keeps sucking and licking her chest until she is writhing and whimpering under him; at some point, she regains her breath and voice and asks quickly:

“Did… did you think about this too?”

Her other hand is on Solas’ head, looking for contact and something to hold onto, but she doesn’t pull him back on her chest when he slightly raises his head to look at her.

“Yes.” he answers, lips wet and eyes filled with fire. “Yes, _vhenan_. I thought about this and _much more_.”

“Me too.” she smiles and Solas’ heart skips a beat. She looks _perfect_ , with her hair sprawled under her head like a pillow of red leaves, with her flushed face showing all her happiness and love, and her hands touching him and making sure he is close to her as much as possible.

He rests his hand on her stomach, then kisses her and she doesn’t miss the chance to press her body flush against his. He chuckles and tickles her belly, making her snort and roll on her side.

“Stop it!” she laughs and he chuckles again as he hugs her from behind and brings a hand to her chest to play and arouse her at the same time. She relaxes immediately and makes a happy, low sound, like a hum, turning her head back to look at him.

He pecks her nose and watches a new blush spread on her face.

“Is that…” She raises her eyebrows and her next words are a whisper. “Is that your…?”

Solas plants the sweetest of kisses on her shoulder and replies, whispering as well: “It is.”

He even rolls his hips against hers and she gasps, wide-eyed.

Then she is smiling again and her hand is resting innocently right above his erection, its weight making Solas squirm and grind slowly against her.

“Can we take our pants off now?” she asks; he squeezes her breast, grinning when she laughs again, then nods.

“Of course.”

They sit up and Scarlet, surprisingly, is the first one to move: she throws away her boots first, then pulls down her beige pants in one swift motion, kicking them away as well.

She sits, tense and nervous, with her hands on her lap. Solas notices how her smalls are the same color and have the same decorations as her breastband, and smiles.

She raises her eyes, watches him, then mumbles: “You aren’t taking them off.”

Solas’ smile is bright.

“I was admiring you.”

He slides an arm around her waist and she is quick to react. She wraps her arms around him so tightly he is left breathless for a moment, but then her lips are covering his face and that is enough to make him feel alive like never before.

His hands find her butt and she squeals, the sound turning into laughter, when he squeezes it. Her soft breasts are pressed on his chest and Solas touches one again, while keeping his other hand on her ass.

Her hands are on his face, cradling it as they kiss and her tongue timidly looks for his. But then she gets bolder and brings them lower until they are teasing his erection a second time.

Solas moans and she gasps, staring at him like she heard the best sound in the world. He blushes and starts to apologize, but she shakes her head and squishes his cheeks, something that she likes to do a lot.

“Silly man.” she smiles, rubbing her nose on his. “Why are you apologizing for something like that? I want you to feel good, Solas.”

Her hands go down again and he can’t help but let out another moan. She looks enraptured and so happy, happy _for him_.

“ _Vhenan_.” he breathes out, bucking into her touch as she slowly unties the strings of his torn pants.

He squeezes her breasts, teases her hard nipples until she is frantically tugging at the strings and whimpering as loud as him; his other hand leaves her butt to rub her hipbones and touch the thin red hairs peeking out from her smalls.

His mouth is on her neck, sucking her tender flesh and feeling her heart beat furiously under it.

Then she finally finds his erection, hard and pushing against his breeches, and it’s like she is on fire.

She doesn’t dare grab it, but her fingers stroke it, up and down, down and up, until Solas is a panting mess and he can’t hold back any longer.

He doesn’t want to scare her or hurt her, though, so he pulls her away with extreme effort and tries to regain his breath.

Then he smiles, to show her that everything is fine and she didn’t do anything wrong.

“We should take off our underwear.” he says, then chuckles and shakes his head. “Otherwise I fear I will end up dirtying mine.”

Scarlet giggles, then does something that greatly surprises him: instead of hesitating or letting him be the first to undress completely, she stretches her legs - her marvelous legs - out and pulls her smalls all the way down to the floor.

Solas sees her womanhood, the faint red hairs covering it, her small navel and soft tummy, the little freckles she has there. He sees the naked, round shape of her butt and _stares_.

He does that until Scarlet shifts - uncomfortably? - on the bed; he blinks and focuses his gaze back on her eyes and finds her smiling.

“Don’t ask me to stand up.” she whispers, fidgeting nervously, but with great joy shining on her round, glowing face. “Or I will probably faint.”

Solas laughs and she does the same. For a long moment, they look at each other, smiling, then he murmurs, wonder and adoration in his voice:

“ _Ma vhenan_ , you are beautiful.”

He looks at the little scars on her thighs and legs, at the more toned muscles of her arms, at the gentle curve of her neck, at the forms of her breasts and the pink dots of her nipples.

He looks at the patch of red hairs between her legs and imagines lying between them, giving her pleasure and bliss.

Then he realizes she is looking at him too, in the same way. She looks at his chest, at his head, at his hands resting on the bed near hers, at his feet, then at his face.

She smiles and Solas, blushing like never before, removes his pants and breeches and sits back on the bed with his erection standing proud and tall between his legs.

He feels nervous. Excited. Frightened and hopeful all at once and he studies Scarlet’s reaction to know what to do.

At first, she gasps and her eyes get bigger, containing only surprise, curiosity, and a great dose of… awe?

Then something else appears in them too and she giggles, a hand covering her mouth.

He is going to combust. With horror, he looks down at his dick and manages to croak out: “What… what is wrong?”

Did she expect it to be bigger? Thicker? Different?

“I knew it!” she whispers, beaming at him, who can just gape at her. “You have freckles there too!”

He looks down again.

“… Freckles?”

And then he feels her lips on his cheek and her hand is just a two inches from his hard length.

“You are beautiful, Solas.” she says, radiant. “ _Ma vhenan_.”

He can’t help but keep staring at her like she is a miracle unfolding right before his very eyes.

 _She is_ , he thinks and the fact that she is looking at him in the same way makes his eyes swell with tears again.

“I…”

She presses another kiss on his cheek. Her smile is blinding and he is getting lost into her golden eyes. “May I?”

She is referring to her hand about to touch his manhood. He nods and makes sure to pull her closer again and places a hand on her chest as before.

She timidly runs her fingers down his cock, studying the texture and warmth. Solas bits his lips, groans, and jumps slightly, but she understands it’s a reaction caused by pleasure and continues.

She always glances up at him to make sure she is not hurting him, though, and he nuzzles her hair while rubbing his thumb on her nipple.

She finally wraps her fingers around his erection and the grip is instantly tight, confident. She is looking at him, at his body, with enthusiasm and _wonder_ , admiration, like he truly is a work of art.

Her hand starts moving and he is utterly lost.

“It’s warm!” she comments, innocent and cheerful, while Solas moans and pants with his face pressed on her shoulder. She grins - he can see her - and speeds up.

“Is this alright?” she asks, rubbing the head of his manhood and spreading his precum. She knows perfectly that it is more than alright and he grins back, playfulness shining in his gray-blue eyes.

“You wicked girl.” he groans, body shook by shivers of bliss and mirthful chuckles. She giggles and speeds up a bit, making him moan loud into her ear as he playfully bites her earlobe.

She is panting too, mostly due to his words and the hand on her breast. Hand that now is moving lower, asking for permission to touch her cunt.

“Solas…” she starts, licking her lips. She is getting worried again. “Solas, it’s _big_.”

His eyes widen. He doesn’t tell her that there are better dicks, _bigger_ dicks. He is… average, he thinks.

But she looks profoundly stunned.

“Will it fit?” she whispers, fearing hers is a stupid question, but it is not, it’s endearing and he smiles at her. “I mean, I read that it _usually_ does, but…”

“It will, my love.” he reassures her. “It will.”

He nuzzles her hair a second time, humming, then adds: “But first we need to do something.”

“Your hand, right?” She squeezes his length one last time before letting it go. “I… I read about the preparations too.”

Solas quirks an eyebrow, smirking, and she pouts, poking his tummy.

“You read about this?” he laughs, grabbing her hands before she can poke him again. She uses her feet instead to tease his and he lunges forward to bite her lips.

She falls on the bed and Solas follows her, going back to the same position as before when he was touching her chest.

“I did!” she answers with a grin. He doesn’t know how she can look both so timid and cheeky at the same time. “I wanted to do everything right. It was educational!” Her eyes widen and she stares at the wall with horror. “… I hope.”

Solas lets out a boyish, cheerful laugh, which ends with a snort like usual, and says: “Don’t worry, _vhenan_.” He leans down, his smile roguish. “It will be perfect, just like you.”

Scarlet doesn’t waste time and throws her arms around him; she seems much interested in discovering all the parts of his body with her hands and he does the same, exploring the soft expanses of pale skin with care.

“You are gorgeous.” he says softly, mouth near hers, and even though she is so excited and happy she can barely speak, she replies: “Not as much as you.”

He has to take a deep breath before being able to continue. His eyes sting and he can feel the familiar lump of tears building again in his throat.

He rests down at her side and tangles his legs with hers, then rests a hand upon her stomach, waiting for her permission.

“Ready, my heart?” he asks and she nods quickly, bringing her hand to his cock as well. She is smiling, trusting him completely, and he thinks all this is too precious, too beautiful, too pure for him to break and tarnish.

But that stubborn, _lovely_ hope in his heart doesn’t want to leave him and so he accepts it and trusts it, praying everything will be alright once the Orb has been recovered.

Right now he wants to focus on this, on giving Scarlet everything he can give her and even more.

He brushes the first digit against her folds. Soft and plump, like he imagined them. She is already wet for him and _warm_ , so warm he cups her cunt with his broad palm to feel that warmth more.

Her legs instinctively widen and she tenses up a bit; both her hands are on his shoulders, anchoring her to him, and her breathing is quick and heavy, her eyes wide and attentive.

“ _Vhenan’ara_.” he murmurs, while parting the hairs around her womanhood. He finds her entrance, but doesn’t slip his finger in. “If this becomes uncomfortable or you do not want to continue for _any_ reason, tell me. Don’t feel ashamed - just tell me and I will stop immediately. Understood?”

She nods and says with a loving smile: “Understood.”

And so he slips the finger in, slowly and carefully, and she gasps. She is tense and staying perfectly still against him. Her eyes wander across his body, focus on the jawbone pendant he is still wearing around his neck, clearly adjusting to the sensation of having his finger inside her.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, already panicking. He doesn’t dare move his hand, afraid of hurting her, but the look she gives him makes him chuckle.

She is _happy_ and so, so aroused.

“It’s… strange, but so good!” she giggles, then frowns and rolls her hips a bit, demanding more. “Deeper.”

“So greedy.” he grins, before obliging. A strangled moan leaves her mouth and then another as he starts moving the finger in an out, slowly at first, then faster.

“I never thought it would be like this.” she says between heavy pants. Solas’ face is near her and he is staring intently at her, studying every change in her expression, every twitch of her lips, every light that appears in her golden eyes.

“It’s so good, Solas!” she continues, giggling, happy beyond words. “It’s like… it’s like… oh, I don’t know!”

She follows the thrusts of his hand with little difficulty and then remembers his hard manhood, still standing up between his legs and rubbing against her thigh.

“There it is.” she laughs and Solas can’t really comment, because he is breathless again and he can’t even form the words in his mind while her dainty fingers are wrapped around his cock like that.

So he decides to counterattack. He knows how vulnerable she is to a certain type of words.

“Your cunt is so soft.” he smiles sweetly, watching her eyes go wide and feeling her hand stop. “And so very _wet_ , my heart. Do you hear this sound?”

He flexes his finger a little inside her and it makes a squelching noise which arouses them both beyond words.

“Perfect.” Solas continues, bringing his mouth to her neck to kiss it, bite it gently, and lick it. “Absolutely perfect.”

Scarlet is biting her lips and asking for more friction, clearly getting close to a minor climax, but then…

Her hand squeezes his erection and she says, moving it faster than before: “I love your voice. I love it when you laugh, when you whisper sweet things in my ear, when you snort, when you get angry and grumble, when you call me _vhenan_ , when you tell me you love me.”

She slightly twists her hand and presses her thumb on the head of his cock. Solas lets out a strangled, choked sound and adds a second finger to the one already inside her.

Scarlet gasps and babbles something, before recovering from the spark of pleasure and continuing, her eyes the only thing Solas is able to see and focus on:

“I want to hear you come too. I want you to come inside me, because… because…” She is too flustered to continue, but he understands the same.

There are tears in her eyes and her smile is bright, forming dimples on her glowing cheeks. Her movements are erratic now and when Solas’ thumb brushes against her clitoris, she cries out, hiding her face against his neck to keep moaning there.

“Solas!” she babbles, squirming and shivering in bliss. “Solas, I want to…!”

And then he removes his hand. He is breathing as heavily as her and his eyes are dark, an intense passion burning in them, together with the same kindness and love they have been showing each other for the whole night.

He licks his fingers, sucks them, making sure Scarlet is watching him.

Then he blinks and looks at them, surprised.

“I tasted this before.” he says, then it hits him.

Scarlet is hiding her face again, this time against the mattress, but he manages to see her face by tickling her.

“ _Vhenan_.” he grins as she whines and refuses to meet his eyes. “I tasted this on your fingers this morning.”

“You…” she starts, then huffs and kicks his legs. He bursts into laughing and holds her even closer, letting her feel the vibrations of his laughter reverberate through him and reach her heart.

“You look gorgeous when you are sleeping.” she suddenly says, the silence in the room carrying her timid whisper across it.

She thoughtfully traces the teeth of Solas’ pendant with a finger, then raises her eyes to him and smiles sheepishly.

“So I… uh, _tried_ to touch myself?”

Solas stares at her for a moment, speechless, then laughs softly. He is flattered, even proud, because she wanted to touch herself while looking at _him_.

He doesn’t know how to reply to that. He can just say one thing.

“Thank you.” He is smiling so much his cheeks hurt.

“Now I don’t need to do that, though.” she giggles, before lying back on the bed and opening her arms to welcome him in her embrace. “You are here, awake, and I have every intention of keeping you between my legs for the entire night.”

“Mh!” His smile is gentle and hungry at the same time. “Is that a promise, _vhenan_?”

She nods, humming, and brushes a foot across his thigh until it hits his sack. Solas inhales and she wiggles her eyebrows.

“ _Wicked girl_.” he growls, descending upon her, muffling her giggles and laughter with kisses.

It takes them a short while to understand how to proceed. Their current position - Scarlet on her back, Solas between her thighs - looks like the best one to start, but legs are confusing and their worry hasn’t melted away completely.

She accidentally hits him in the face with her arm and spends at least five minutes apologizing, until he successfully calms her down with a kiss and a finger flicking her clit.

Then he accidentally hits her stomach with his foot and she has to reassure him at least thrice before he stops saying ‘sorry’ and kissing her belly.

It’s been a long time since he saw scenes of sex in the Fade and his memory of them isn’t that great.

He proceeds cautiously, wishing to give Scarlet the best night of her life, the one she deserves.

He makes sure she is comfortable, studies the best approach to initiate, and almost falls off the bed, making Scarlet laugh until her cheeks are as red as her hair again.

“Hush.” Solas grins, teasing her entrance with the tip of his manhood. He swats her hand when she tries to poke his stomach again. “Stop it, you adorable woman. Let me focus.”

She sticks out her tongue at him, but doesn’t insist and stays still as he finally - _finally_ \- slips into her.

They both gasp and her hands automatically grasp his shoulders, looking for support. Her breathing is frantic like before and there is an expression of mild discomfort on her face.

Solas doesn’t move for two reasons: one, he doesn’t want to hurt her; two, he is as overwhelmed as she is.

She is _tight_ and wonderfully warm and _slick_ and his heart is beating fast like a hammer, a drum in his ears thankfully not loud enough to cover Scarlet’s moans.

Because she _is_ moaning. Softly, shyly, but she is doing it even though he is still like a statue.

“Does… does it hurt?” he asks, so worried and panicked he mistakes those noises for sounds of pain. “ _Ma vhenan_ , do you want me to stop?”

“You are inside me.” she murmurs, completely in awe, watching the point where their bodies are united. “Solas, you are…”

His pendant is hitting her breasts - her delicious, soft breasts -, so he removes it with a swift gesture and throws it behind his back, distractedly hearing its ‘thud’ as it falls on the ground.

And then Scarlet throws her arms around his neck and murmurs, pressing kisses all over his flushed, sweaty face: “Move, _ma sa’lath_ , please, I want you, I want to feel you, I want you _I want you I want you_ …”

And so he does. He moves within her, slowly at first, then faster and he melts in her arms, in her bone-crushing and heart-warming embrace.

There is wonder on her face and she meets his thrusts awkwardly; eventually they find their rhythm and she looks even more pleasantly surprised when the bliss increases and Solas makes louder noises.

“You are hard.” she giggles as he plants heated, wet pecks all over her face. “So hard and thick.”

“And you are soft, my love.” he hums. “And so, so deliciously tight.”

“Is that a good…” She stops, letting out a strangled moan which turns into a low whimper as he finds her clitoris again. “That’s not fair!”

“Of course it is.” he grins, continuing to rub the nub peeking out of its hood. He kisses her nose. “Want me to go faster, _ma vhenan_?”

“Wait.” She pulls him closer instead and his heart stops when he sees the look of adoration on her face. “Can we go slow? I want to savor this. I…”

She breathes out a soft laughter and rests her forehead on his, taking his face in her hands and caressing his cheeks and ears.

“I want to make love to you. Until dawn, no, forever.”

She traces his features with her lips and all he can do is keep thrusting into her and listening to her words of love. There are tears in his eyes again and he isn’t even surprised anymore.

She compliments him. She tells him how good and kind he is, how much she loves him, how much she is lucky to have him in her life.

Sometimes she has to stop because he hit a special point in her body which makes her toes curl and her throat go raw. But she always continues as soon as air is back in her lungs and her mind is less full of white, brilliant bliss.

And Solas cries. Not because of worry, fear, sorrow, but out of _joy_. Pure, sheer joy, so much and so complete he nearly doesn’t recognize it. He moves within her, babbling replies to her words, and tears come into her eyes too as she smiles up at him.

She is perfect and he doesn’t deserve her, but he cannot stop. Her love is too much and he is selfish, greedy, wicked and wants it all.

He wants to give his to her, centuplicated, and so he does, the greatest gift he can give her, the biggest truth he possesses.

He loves her, he loves her more than anything else in the world, and he moans and cries against her neck as he speeds up and feels her fingers dig into his back and hears her approach her climax.

He raises his head to see her and thinks they are not close enough, even though their bodies are basically mixed together at this point.

So he slips out of her - for a terrible moment, her absence feels like death - and sits up against the pillows and headboard of the bed. He takes her into his lap and there she is again, smiling and giggling, arms once again wrapped around his shoulders.

He tells her what she told him and even more. He worships her with his words and body alike and watches her cheeks burn hot as he compliments her kindness and brilliance and thanks her for her love.

She bounces up and down his cock, slower this time; they help each other adjust to the new position, take their time, touch and caress each other’s body, discover each other.

He kisses and licks her breasts and she discovers she can tightens the walls of her womanhood to give him more pleasure. He sucks hickeys on her neck and she playfully bites his earlobes.

He risks to fall off the bed again, but thankfully Scarlet holds him and they end up laughing so much they cry again.

They come like that, with happy tears in their eyes and smiles on their faces.

Scarlet watches him with rapture as he spends his semen inside her and he kisses her wet cheeks and brushes back her sweaty hair as her orgasm ripples through her.

“Magnificent.” he says, helping her lie down on the bed. He plants delicate smooches all over her chest, neck, and then face. “Absolutely perfect.”

Scarlet grins, a bit sleepy, and he grins back, feeling more alive than ever. She lifts her head to check the bed and frowns.

“There is no blood.” she notices. “My friends in the clan told me there is always blood.”

Horror fills her eyes and shifts her features.

“Solas, are you sure we had sex?”

It takes him a long moment to understand what she asked. He opens his mouth to answer, but he doesn’t really know what to say to _that_.

“I-I mean…!” She is panicking now. “The other girls in the clan told me it hurt a lot and blood came out when they did it! But I didn’t feel pain, only a slight burn at the start, and the sheets aren’t stained!”

She sits up and wrings her hands, looking down at him with something akin to despair written on her face.

“Did… Did I do something wrong?” She swallows. “Did you like it?”

“ _Vhenan_!”

Solas sits up as well and takes her right hand to his mouth, kissing her knuckles and fingertips.

“Scarlet, it was _perfect_.” he says, pulling her into his arms like before. “There are no words to describe it. I enjoyed it immensely.”

“I did too. It was the best thing in the world.” She sighs and glances at the bed. “But the blood…”

Solas scoffs and pushes her back onto the pillows, an annoyed frown directed at her friends etched on his face.

“Your friends’ mates were clearly impatient fools who cared little for their lovers’ wellbeing. This is something that must be done together. Hurry only brings pain, discomfort, and blood.”

“So this is the correct way to do it?” Scarlet looks dumbfounded. “But even the books said…!”

He is going to burn those things.

“The books are wrong as well.” he tells her, fixing the pillows under her head and pulling up the blankets to create a comfortable den.

He snorts seeing her confused expression and adds: “ _Vhenan_ , trust me. The Fade taught me this as well.”

She finally smiles and that sight fills every crevice of his old body and heart with warmth.

“So it was the best kind of sex?”

She nestles at his side and he chuckles, combing her hair with his long fingers and tangling their legs together as they do every night.

“Indeed.” He kisses her. “Thank you for this, _vhenan’ara_. I…”

A heavy lump grows into his throat, but he swallows it and the new tears, saying with a smile as bright as hers: “I loved it.”

“I loved it too.” She nuzzles his neck and touches the muscles of his chest. “Every part of it. And I am the one who must thank you, you…”

She stops for a moment, then cradles his face in her hands again. She seems to love doing that a lot and Solas adores it too.

“Thank you, _vhenan’ara_.” she says, eyes shining with the same adoration he saw before. “I will always cherish this.”

He swallows, nods, and presses his forehead on hers, inhaling her scent mixed with the one of sex and sweat.

“This was real, my beloved.” he murmurs, bringing one of her hands - the right one - to his chest, right over his heart. “Always remember it. This was real and filled with love.”

They kiss, but don’t fall asleep immediately. Instead, they spend some minutes talking and joking, playing and cuddling.

As the sun quietly rises above the Frostback Mountains, they enter the Fade, hand in hand and as cheerful and playful as in the waking world.

There, waiting for them, are some of Solas’ spirit friends and the first question they ask is about their night of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT IS DONE. AFTER MONTHS OF PLANNING AND WRITING. IT IS DONE. 
> 
> Damn, this is probably the longest chapter I've ever written for anything. It seriously felt like a separated fic and I am probably going to post it like that as well. 
> 
> BUT I FINALLY WROTE SOLAS AND SCARLET MAKING LOVE FOR THE FIRST TIME AND I AM SO HAPPY ಥ‿ಥ
> 
> As usual, I'd like to apologize for my smut. ;_; I know it feels awkward at times and this chapter is so long I got tired (and sleepy) multiple times while writing it. So I apologize for any typos too.
> 
> Also, I know I probably am the minority, but I like to imagine that Solas was too busy with his rebellion to actually think about sex, so he is an old virgin who only saw sex in the Fade and received the Talk from the spirits.
> 
> There are some pictures made by amazing artists too! <3 [This one](http://lafaiette.tumblr.com/image/117797634475) by [Syberfab](http://syberfab.tumblr.com/post/117768483768/commission-for-lafaiette-their-inquisitor-scarlet) and [this one](http://66.media.tumblr.com/dff76d9c31c4b2ba452e1b7d39630608/tumblr_oa3ybwYkl01s996u1o1_500.png) by [Fleschybits](http://fleschybits.tumblr.com/post/147193454346)
> 
> (EMMG I DID IT, NOW I CAN REST HAPPY)


	6. Nail Polish

Things are getting quite hectic at Skyhold.

After meeting with Hawke’s Warden contact in Crestwood and dealing with the corrupted Wardens in the Western Approach, a plan has been carefully prepared to seize Adamant and stop Corypheus’ demon army once and for all.

Of course it will require time, much preparation, a huge amount of money, and enough supplies to feed and arm the soldiers. It won’t be easy task and the Advisors are already doing their best to ensure everything will proceed smoothly so that only the smallest number of lives possible will be lost.

But they are not the Inquisitor and there is only much they can do, achieve, and gain, both from their contracts, alliances, and resources.

The rest is up to Scarlet. The biggest rest.

And now that one of the major, most important missions she has ever faced is approaching, she spends even more time than usual studying all that she can, meeting nobles, chevaliers, and influential people, collecting and buying the best materials, working late in the undercroft with Dagna and Harritt to make sure her friends and soldiers have the best equipment.

It’s stressful, complicated, and sometimes she is painfully aware of her cultural gaps. She never dealt with such matters before: the Dalish life is complex and simple at the same time, but it never asked her to guide an army, only two or three other hunters to feed her clan.

Back then, that looked like the most difficult thing in the world. Now she isn’t so sure anymore.

Solas and the others help her greatly. They study with her, assist her whenever she has doubts or difficulties, make sure she takes care of herself and relax when possible.

Her favorite moment of the day is now dinner, when she and Solas go to their quarters in the highest tower and live the last hours of the evening and night together, without hurry and concern as if the world outside those walls didn’t existed.

They find peace in their reassuring routine and each other’s presence and for those blissful hours it feels like there are no wars in Thedas and they are free from every duty.

They also see how their times spent in bed - the _hot_ times - are even better than their first one, much to their surprise, since they didn’t think an even bigger pleasure could exist.

The first ones to discover they made that step in their relationship are Bull and Varric, who are part of the team once again as Scarlet heads to Empire du Lion for what feels like the millionth time.

After dealing with the Red Templars - who just don’t know when to give up -, they stop by the hot pools to relax and heal their wounds again.

This time, Solas doesn’t join the other men in their pool, but enters Scarlet’s instead, smiling sultrily at her while she almost combusts and gets redder than her hair.

He sits behind her, wraps his arms around her, and presses his chest flush against her back, letting her rest and relax on him.

Bull and Varric observes them with blank stares, until Solas smirks at them from behind the short wall of rocks shielding him and Scarlet from their stares.

Scarlet timidly looks back with a content, enthusiastic smile too and then the Qunari and dwarf react.

“Holy shit.” Varric chuckles with fatherly pride, while Bull shouts excited and _gets up_.

“ _Oooooh!_ ”

Scarlet yelps and covers her eyes, Solas curses in Elvhen and moves them both so they can’t see Bull stomping in the water, happy like a baby. Varric shuts tightly his eyes, pale like the snow around them, trying to make him sit again.

“ _I knew it_!”

“Maker’s balls, Tiny, _get down_!”

“I knew it was gonna happen sooner or later!”

“Please, for the love of Andraste, _get your ass down_!”

“Solas, you nasty! And you too, boss! I knew you guys were waiting for the best moment…”

“Tiny, I’ll go blind here, _please_.”

“… to unleash the _beasts_ in you and…”

Bull continues with a series of weird puns and innuendos until Varric finally manages to make him sit down and cover himself under the steamy water.

The Qunari starts whistling dirty tunes while Varric tells him to never do that again or he will be ‘too traumatized to write any more books and you know what the Seeker would do then’.

“Mh.” Solas says softly, washing Scarlet’s shoulders as she gently rubs his legs. “Do I unleash my _inner beast_ in bed, _vhenan_?”

She smiles and traces a small scar on his right leg, following it with her index finger until it ends and she can caress his smooth, freckled skin.

“Even if you do, it’s a very kind and sweet beast.” she replies softly, turning her head to look at him, and for a moment she thinks his blush caused by the hot water deepens and his face shifts into a touched, emotional expression.

Then he smiles wickedly and kisses her neck, eliciting her laughter and another of Bull’s silly songs.

Not even a few hours after coming back to Skyhold, the whole fortress knows about this new detail of their relationship.

Scarlet hears the nobles in the hall talk about it - some of the comments aren’t that good, but she does her best to ignore them and not get angry -, she sees Vivienne’s _proud_ smile, Josephine’s happy grin, Leliana’s amused smirk that is the premise of a good gossip talk later.

Dorian is way less subtle: he finds her in the infirmary, talking with the physician about the new medicines she discovered, and quickly takes her outside without even giving her the chance to excuse herself.

“Dorian!” she exclaims, putting her hands on her hips once they are hiding behind the tavern. “What in the Creators’ name are you doing?”

The Tevinter curls his mustache, studying her intently as if to solve a mystery or understand something, and Scarlet deflates, a bit of panic rising.

“What?” She looks down at her clothes, then touches her hair. “Is something wrong with my outfit?”

“Except for the odd colour…”

“But I like it!”

“… nothing is wrong. You look as good as ever, my friend.”

“Did something happen then?” She starts to fidget, discreetly like Josephine taught her, a way to feel less anxious, but also not show it too much. Dorian of course notices it right away and laughs, his eyes as bright as his smile. Then he whispers, a hand on his chin:

“Of course! How did I not notice it?”

“N-Notice what?”

He sniffles indignantly, pretending to be offended. “I must say I’m terribly _disappointed_ that my best friend decided not to keep me updated on her relationship with our dear elven apostate.”

He even folds his arms and glares at the sky, pouting and adding: “I had to learn that from all the talks and gossip going around.”

“Oh, Dorian!” she laughs, motioning him to sit on the grass with her. Once they are down, she links her arm with his and pat it.

“You’re right, I should have said something. I was just so busy that…”

“Oh, I was kidding, you silly.” the Altus chuckles, elbowing her. “I just wanted to know if you were alright.”

Scarlet blushes and looks down at the grass, a big smile curling her lips until two red dimples form on her face. Dorian whistles and laughs again.

“That good? I’m glad, my friend!”

“It’s…! It’s…” She looks for the words in her head, but find none to accurately describes what Solas makes her feel, both physically and psychologically.

In the end, she giggles and hides her face against her bended legs, making Dorian laughs harder than before.

He starts asking discreet, but curious questions and she answers as best as she can, her whole face red as a tomato and her grin threatening to split it in half.

Dorian makes dirty, but elegant jokes and even gives her some advices, promising to give her more smutty books to feel more confident.

“What about the matter of oral we discussed before that preposterous party?” he asks, not even hiding his smug smirk and resting his chin on his hand with extreme nonchalance.

“We… we did it many times now.” she replies, thinking about last night, when she and Solas snuck into the small room where all the precious bottles they found are kept, instead of organizing their notes in the underground library.

There is a chair in that room, a chair Solas insisted for her to have so that he could better reach her womanhood while kneeling down. She remembers his raspy tongue licking her cunt, his happy sounds as he looked at her and watched her writhe and moan and call his name.

She remembers sitting on his lap and watching him come inside her while she kissed his face and cradled his head in her warm hands.

She lets out a tiny, high-pitched sound and hides her face against her legs again, while Dorian howls with laughter and falls back onto the grass.

“Ah, love!” he sighs, playing with a strand of grass and using it to brush his mustache. “Surely the greatest of feelings.”

They remain in silence for a short time, listening to Skyhold living and breathing around them: people are buying and selling things in the courtyard down below; Maryden’s voice is coming out from the tavern, accompanied by the many patrons’ laughs and cheers; things sound hectic in the armory, judging by the constant sound of metal on metal, and agents and guards are running around, each busy with their own tasks.

Scarlet observes a noblewoman converse with another one, their rich, extravagant dresses sticking out in the austere, simple surroundings of Skyhold, and sighs. She never was one for fashion and colorful, expensive clothes, but she can recognize good stuff when she sees it.

“The women in all those books are described being quite beautiful.” she starts, startling Dorian, who was lost in thought, observing the clouds in the sky. “Not just physically, but also stylistically. They are always fashionable and interesting to look at.”

Dorian hums, his brow knitted in concern, and sits up.

“I have the feeling I won’t like what you are about to say, my friend.”

“Well…” Scarlet tries to continue, but feels embarrassed, so she sighs frustrated and looks at the grass with a face as worried as Dorian.

“I know I’m not exactly… elegant. Josephine tried to get me some dresses and different clothes, but either the seamstresses have no idea how to make something for an elf or I can’t bring myself to like them.”

She glances at her comfy, professional beige outfit and affectionately plays with the sleeve of her left hand, tracing the trim on the edge.

“This one is the only one I really enjoy wearing, but I always feel untidy and sloppy when I’m around the nobles or important guests.”

Dorian quirks an eyebrow, not believing his ears.

“Those buttons are made of _gold_.”

“Yeah, but I heard a dwarven merchant say the color of the fabric reminded him of nug poop.” she mumbles, pouting at the grass she is now pulling out of the ground in great chunks. “I’m the Inquisitor. I’m supposed to look fancy and… and _reliable_ and…”

“But you _are_ reliable and that’s not because of a dress or a new pair of shoes.” Dorian interrupts her, shaking his head with an anger directed at whoever criticized her. “My friend, don’t worry yourself over such petty things. Looks may count sometimes, but they are not everything.”

Scarlet stares at him as if he was growing another head on his shoulders.

“… It’s so odd to hear that coming from you.”

“Well, when you live in dear, old Tevinter you are basically forced to take care of your looks in the most obsessive way.” he sighs dramatically, watching the sky.

Then he glances at her, smirking. “Although mine was also a way to feel better about myself and forget about my self-deprecation for a while.”

“Dorian.” she says softly, gently poking his side, and he pokes her in return.

“Scarlet.” he says. “What, are we repeating each other’s names to avoid forgetting them? I was not aware we were already that senile.”

She giggles and he smiles, relieved to hear that sound. He hesitates for a second, before asking tactfully: “Things were different in your clan, weren’t they? I doubt Dalish elves have the time and resources to even think about fancy clothes.”

“Yes, it wasn’t really a problem. I never thought about these things before.” she sighs, lowering her hands into the grass and moving them to spread away the torn strands of grass she plucked out.

A sad shadow passes over her round face and she adds: “My hair is a disaster too. No matter how well I comb it every morning, it ends up looking like a wild bush on fire by the end of the day. And it’s not even wavy or curly!”

“Did you forget about the difficult missions you have to go through? The terrible places you’ve been in?”

“I’m not talking about the time outside Skyhold. My hair sucks even _here_!”

“You think it sucks because you keep comparing yourself to other people.” Dorian retorts, folding his arms with a stern look. “Say, you aren’t doing this for Solas, are you?”

“Oh no!” she hurries to say, before smiling goofily and staring at the entrance of the fortress with a lovestruck look. “I know he would like me even if I went around wearing a potato sack.”

“Good man.” Dorian smiles proudly, then gets serious again and insists: “Then am I right to assume that you want to do this for yourself?”

She timidly, but quickly nods, looking back at her hands. Then she grimaces, observing the scars, cuts, and callouses on them. Her fingers are long and gracious, but she has started biting her nails due to stress and they get broken quite often in battle anyway.

“Even my hands aren’t that great, now that I think about it.” she mumbles, but then Dorian elbows her, making her gasps in surprise.

“Stop it.” he hisses, glaring at her. “All this self-deprecation doesn’t suit you at all.”

“It’s not self-deprecation, I’m just being objective!”

“You are being _negative_ and that just isn’t the Scarlet I know.”

“Fine.” she sighs, finishing to throw away all the strands of grass she tore up from the ground. “I just want to feel better about myself. More confident. I never had this problem when I was in my clan, but now…”

“Now you feel the pressure of being Inquisitor and pleasing everyone, right?”

“Yes.” She wraps her arms around her legs and rests her chin on her knees. “I need to make a good impression and look reliable if I want the Inquisition to grow even stronger. And I think feeling better about myself might help me.” She blushes and looks down. “Also…”

Dorian tilts his head, waiting.

“Also…?”

She mumbles something, but repeats it when she notices Dorian’s confusion: “Also it might help me be more confident in bed and with Solas in general. I _know_ he loves me no matter what, but…”

“Alright, I got it.” the Altus concludes for her matter-of-factly, getting up and patting his pants to remove any trace of grass and leaves from them. He grins at Scarlet.

“You need a boost! Something gratifying, capable of making feel you better about yourself. A break from all this boring duty.”

Scarlet tries to protest the last sentence, babbling: “It’s… it’s not that boring, Dorian! I learned a lot and…”

“ _Pffft_.” he waves his hand dismissively, then helps her to get up, grumbling: “I swear if I see another book about the correct _etiquette_ to possess during an Orlesian dinner, I’m going to set it on fire and then throw myself off a cliff.”

Scarlet giggles, not hiding her own feelings about that topic.

“I still don’t understand why they have to use so much cutlery.”

“Because nobility loves to surround itself with useless, strict rules to see who will break them first and doom themselves to eternal shame.” Dorian explains curtly, probably remembering the lessons _he_ had to go through in his childhood. Then he smiles brightly and offers her his arm.

“Now, come! We have much to prepare. First, we need to let Josephine know.”

“Know?” Scarlet promptly accepts his arm and lets him lead her to the entrance of the stronghold. “Know what?”

“That the Inquisitor and her companions are going to Val Royeaux to spend some days in complete relax and psychologically prepare themselves to the upcoming battle and that Orlesian Ball!”

“Dorian!” she gasps, stopping on her tracks and almost making Dorian trip. “We can’t… _I_ can’t do that! There is still too much to do and learn and…”

“And _you_ need some peace to recover from all this and better fulfill your duties.” he insists, pulling her towards the huge doors. “Josephine will understand. We can invite her and the other Advisors too!”

“Somebody needs to remain here.” Scarlet replies, tugging at his arm again, her brow furrowed. “Remember those war rules we studied with Cullen and Blackwall? Never let your main headquarters lack at least two important figures capable of protecting them. My clan did the same and we were _nomadic_.”

“Fine, fine! No fun time for Leliana and Cullen, I guess.” Dorian snorts and rolls his eyes. “I doubt they would ever leave their work, anyway. I swear they seem scared to think about anything that isn’t that sometimes.”

Scarlet is about to say something else, but he stops her by raising a stern finger.

“Don’t! I know what you are going to say.” He clears his throat and continues in a high-pitched, cute tone: “But Dorian, I can’t possibly leave Skyhold! I am the Inquisitor and everyone expects so much from me! It doesn’t matter if I go mad because of boredom or lose all my pretty hair due to worry!”

“I don’t say that!”

“I know and that’s terribly worrying, to be honest.” the human sighs, earning himself a finger pressed into his side. He snorts and tries to dodge her hand, but she pokes him a second time before sticking out her tongue at him.

“Come on, it will be fun!” he grins. “Just for a few days! Then we will immediately focus all our energies back on Adamant, I promise.”

Scarlet doesn’t reply. She looks at her hands, then at the noblewomen admiring the courtyard and blushes. She feels proud of her Dalish life and heritage, but at the same time she is aware of how much influence she has and _needs_ to have.

She is the leader of one of the most important organization in Thedas, but she doesn’t always feel like it, not because other people don’t make her feel so, but because she does that to herself.

She really needs a boost in confidence, something she never needed before, not when she was a simple huntress in her clan and her self-worth depended on entirely different matters.

Now her looks are important too and she doesn’t really know where to start from.

So she turns to Dorian and nods with a smile, making his grin grow.

“Alright.” she says. “Let’s do this.”

 

\- - - -

 

In the end, they aren’t even _that_ many.

Josephine has simply too much to do and kindly refuses, even though she is in great need of a pause too, after all the months she spent teaching Scarlet more about what she needs to know.

The same counts for Leliana and Cullen, but as Dorian expected, they love their work too much and the idea of leaving Skyhold to relax in Val Royeaux looks almost absurd to them, although Leliana does ask them to enjoy the Orlesian city for her too.

Sera and Blackwall aren’t that interested: the first claims it’s because she already knows “that snobby place”, so there is really no need for her to go back there, where some nobles she harassed might even recognize her.

Blackwall almost seems to have the same reasons, but quickly dismisses any questions and reassures everyone that he prefers to stay inside the stables, carving toys for the children of the refugees.

Bull wants to spend all the time he can with the Chargers to train them, since they are going to help at conquering Adamant too.

“I’m good, boss.” he told Scarlet when she invited him. “All the relax I need is here! Go have fun.”

And then he winked and nodded at Solas, who was offering Krem advices on defense against magic attacks just a few meters away.

So in the end, it’s just Scarlet and Solas, walking hand in hand; Dorian and Vivienne, studying the windows of the shops and the colorful stands; Varric and a grumbling Cassandra, discussing modern literature; Cole, walking right next to Scarlet, observing the city with big eyes full of wonder.

They have been to Val Royeaux before, but they never had the time to visit the back alleys and shops far from the market and see the other parts of the city, so those less used to such pomp and splendor look around with great enthusiasm and curiosity.

It’s mainly Scarlet and Cole who do that, but Solas and Varric look quite intrigued too, observing the richness of the buildings and streets in admired silence. Despite the exaggerated tones, the Orlesian style can be exquisite when it wants to be.

“So what are we doing here exactly?” Cassandra asks as they enter a large alley whose walls are covered with various messages, announcements, but also elegant frescoes. It’s probably the fanciest alley they’ve been yet, full of extravagant shops.

“We are here to have fun, darling, far from the confusion of Skyhold.” Vivienne promptly explains as if it wasn’t clear enough. She waves a perfect hand and points at the nearest shop, smiling as she notices the many scarves it’s selling. “Shopping will do us all a great good, I believe.”

“This is not exactly my idea of fun.” the Seeker admits, mumbling, while glaring at the long, _large_ dresses displayed in a golden-framed window. “I thought we wanted to _relax_.”

“Maker!” Vivienne gasps, not believing what she just heard. “Shopping can be relaxing, my dear, if done right!” She smirks and nods at a tiny, elegant door well visible in the distance thanks to its vivid colors. “I was told that over there is a wonderful bookshop.”

“A bookshop, you said?” Varric intervenes, immediately interested. In fact, there is a huge grin on his beardless face now. “We visited another one much time ago, but this one looks even better.”

“And expensive.” Cassandra mutters under her breath, but she looks curious to see what it is selling.

“Well, I already spend the majority of my time surrounded by books, so I want to see something different today for a change.” Dorian says, eyeing the other shops with a pensive face.

Then he lights up and turns to Scarlet, discreetly nodding at a small store selling clothes just a few steps away.

Solas doesn’t notice that and turns to her with a bright smile as well, asking: “What would you like to do, _vhenan_? Shall we accompany Master Tethras and see what good books we can find?”

“Yeah, I bet there will be many _smutty_ novels.” Varric snickers, dodging just in time Cassandra’s gloved hand. “What?! I know you and the Inquisitor love that stuff!”

“In case you forgot, it’s mainly _your_ smutty stuff that we read!” the Seeker retorts, furious and embarrassed, her cheeks beetle red. She folds her arms and shoots a heated glare at the dwarf, who accepts it without fear. “And any other thing we might read is good, mature literature!”

“Those revisions Philliam, a Bard! writes can hardly be considered _mature_ , Seeker.”

Her glare gets even worse, but Varric’s smile is as candid and bright as ever, so she has to give up.

“I am sure we will find interesting stuff.” Solas says, still smiling at Scarlet. She fidgets, looking at the bookshop, then turns to him and says, sounding nearly apologetic: “I… I’d like to go with Dorian. Maybe I’ll find something good for me too.” Her voice gets lower as she concludes and she glances at the nearest shop with something akin to _fear_. “Like something… pretty.”

Everyone except for the Solas, the Altus, and Cole stares at her as if she was a demon who just admitted to have taken her place.

Then Vivienne’s lips curl into a bright, joyous smile.

“Oh dear, I _knew_ you would have noticed the high quality of Orlesian fashion!” She shoots a pointed look to the shabbiest men of the group. “At least someone here has good taste.”

“Taste is subjective, Madame.” Varric jokes, grinning at her as she scrunches up her nose and raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

“Perhaps. But that doesn’t mean the Inquisitor’s most trusted companions can go around like _this_.” She glares at Cole and sighs annoyed. “Maker, that hat is hurting my eyes.”

“It’s a nice hat.” the spirit boy kindly replies, but Vivienne scoffs and doesn’t even dignify that with an answer.

“Well, then, let’s get moving!” Dorian intervenes, clapping his hands to conclude the conversation and finally start shopping. “We will meet here once we are finished with our business, what do you say?”

“Good for me.” Varric says. “Seeker, want to come with…”

“No.” she cuts him off, moving next to Scarlet, her arms folded and her brow furrowed. “I didn’t come here to listen to your jokes and mockery.”

The dwarf gasps, bringing a hand to his shocked face. “Me? Mock you? I never did that!”

“You are doing it _now_.”

“We may find some good books! And even horrible ones and we could laugh about them together!”

She hesitates at that and observes the dwarf, who looks honest and sincerely impatient to do that with her. She softens a bit for a second, but then changes her mind and glares at him again.

“No. Go have fun alone.”

Varric sighs, but his good mood doesn’t go away and he smiles at Solas and Cole as he puts his hands into his deep pockets, ready to go.

“At least I’ll have Chuckles and the Kid with me.”

“I want to go with Vivienne.” Cole candidly announces and this time the surprise is so big nobody knows what to say for a long minute.

Vivienne herself blinks multiple times, before asking coldly: “And why is that?”

“You want to buy me a new hat, but you don’t want to ask me to come with you.” the spirit boy plays with his sleeves, which Scarlet sewed back to a decent state a few days ago. He smiles happily. “You can pretend you want to keep an eye on me! So you won’t feel embarrassed.”

The Enchanter mutters something that sounds like a bad word, but no one is sure and no one dares to point that out. Then she clears her throat and starts walking away, her silver dress fluttering elegantly behind her.

“Are you coming or not?” she calls as she keeps walking and Cole immediately runs to her, walking at her side with all the joy and innocence in the world.  

“… That was a nice twist.” Dorian comments, observing the odd pair enter a large hat shop.

“You know, I thought the world couldn’t get any crazier, but I was wrong.” Varric adds, scratching his chin, then sighs, shakes his head, and asks Solas: “Ready, Chuckles? Let’s go before something just as weird happens.”

“Very well.” Solas turns to Scarlet and smiles at her, before pressing a sweet kiss on her lips. “Have a good time, _vhenan_.”

She smiles back and nods, blushing. “You too.”

And then she, Dorian, and Cassandra are alone in the alley… alone except for the Orlesians and other people in visit walking and talking around them. Many turn to watch them, recognizing Scarlet or the symbol of the Inquisition on the pins and buttons of their clothes.

It feels almost surreal to be so famous and to be able to buy nearly everything in the city now.

Scarlet still remembers the time she and Solas bought frilly cakes in the central market, after spending all they had in an expensive gear shop.

Now their pockets and pouches are full of coins and merchants gladly offer them discounts or even free stuff, thanking her and her friends for all their hard job.

She realizes she can buy whatever she wants as she reads the price-tags of the goods displayed in the windows, as she _feels_ the pomposity and wealth coming from the closed, lacquered doors of the most expensive shops.

“So, where do you want to start from?” Dorian asks as she looks with wonder at some transparent nightgowns with intricate designs and motifs sewn on their sleeves and collarbones. “Oh my. From the fun part already?”

“What are we looking for exactly?” Cassandra says, eyeing the nightgowns with confusion. “You need more clothes for the night, Inquisitor?”

“No, I…” Scarlet’s eyes fall on an odd attire she can’t quite understand the use of, then realizes what it is and babbles, quickly looking away: “I… I just wanted to try something new. To change my look and feel more confident.”

Cassandra frowns, already angry at _someone_.

“Did the guests at Skyhold offend you?”

“No! It’s just…” Scarlet sighs, feeling silly, but Cassandra looks genuinely concerned, so she reassures her with a smile, explaining: “I want to look good for the Inquisition and myself. I never really thought about these things before, but I want to do something, even a little something, to feel better, be more confident, and do a better job.”

“And you think changing your look will help?” the Seeker doesn’t look entirely convinced, but smiles when Scarlet nods timidly. “I see. I don’t understand much about fashion, but I will help in any way I can.”

“Thank you, Cassandra!” Scarlet grins from ear to ear, then looks back at the beautiful nightgown in the center of the window. “Do you think that would be too much…?”

“It’s… very peculiar.” the human squints her eyes, trying to look behind the mannequin. “I think the back is open, Inquisitor. Down to the butt.”

“ _Ohhhh._ ”

The two women study the nightgown and comment about it in low, timid tones until Dorian clears his throat and calls them from afar.

“Why don’t we try here before losing ourselves in the perverted world of sexy fashion?” he asks, pointing at another door. The windows of this shop aren’t very big and there aren’t many clothes on display, but their style looks simple enough for Scarlet and it doesn’t shout _shem_ from every complex ribbon and high, laced collar.

The bell above the door rings cheerfully as they enter. As they expected, the shop isn’t big, but it’s stuffed with clothes, fabrics, and traveling outfits of every kind.

Nothing here reminds Scarlet of elven style - the Orlesians would never craft and wear clothes based on elven culture -, but the things for sale are generic enough that they won’t feel too _human_ on her, just like the armors, jackets, and robes she, Dagna, and Harritt make in the undercroft.

The problem is that these clothes are _too_ generic. Their style may be nice, but their size is for humans only and every shirt or pair of pants the flattering merchant gives her falls on her lithe form like a bag.

The boots are too tight, the jackets too large, the outfits suitable for the everyday life at Skyhold don’t compliment her forms or their sleeves are too short. Even the hats the old woman makes her try touch the tips of her long ears, bothering her.

The merchant refuses to let them go, babbling something about the Inquisitor being her most precious, wonderful customer, then insists to make Dorian and Cassandra try something too, since there is nothing for Scarlet here.

In the end, they have to appease her by buying three scarves, the only thing in the shop that the Inquisitor can wear without problems. She chooses a nice, dark orange scarf made of Dales Loden Wool, but it’s not much different from one she could have crafted herself at Skyhold.

“Perhaps we should go to a seamstress.” Dorian muses after they have left the third clothing shop unable to offer Scarlet clothes that aren’t tenfold her size or so terribly Orlesian in style that she can barely look at them without cringing.

“I doubt they would be able to make something for me. A famous tailor made me a nightgown once and it was horrible.” she mumbles, blushing when she spots an Orlesian noblewoman wearing a formidable gray and blue dress pass by with an equally elegant elven servant walking next to her.

The noblewoman doesn’t even look at them, but the young servant glances at Scarlet, looks at her from head to toe, then smirks and keeps walking with her chin held up proudly, the silver of her half-mask shining under the sun, just like the minuscule golden threads sewn into her waistcoat and the sapphire pins holding her hair in place.

“I haven’t seen such snobbery since my mother dragged me to a pompous ball in Qarinus.” Dorian scoffs while Scarlet sighs and slowly stuffs the scarf into her bag.

“I guess some elven servants are happy and satisfied to be able to live like that.” she says, fixing the bag on her belt. “That woman must treat her pretty well. At least I’m glad for that.”

“Perhaps we should focus on something other than clothes.” Cassandra says, swiftly changing topics. “What about hair and make-up…?”

“Maker. The Orlesians don’t know how to be subtle with those.” Dorian groans, already making a weird face at the sign hanging above a large door. Scarlet tilts her head, trying to read it, but it’s written in Orlesian and she has no idea what a _coiffeur_ is.

She understands what it is as soon as she steps into the room, though. There are multiple sinks and comfortable chairs, tables with scissors and other instruments on them, colored bottles and flowers, pots and enchanted _helmets_ which seem to provide warmth.

A woman with a rather odd hairstyle, resembling the shape of a butterfly, welcomes them without hiding her surprise.

“It’s strange to see any elf enter here. I’d say it never happened before, right, André?” she turns to the elven assistant whose head is still bowed down. He imperceptibly nods and the hairdresser studies better Scarlet and her friends.

“Are you mercenaries?” she asks, playing with a little chain attached to her mask. There is a precious gem at the end of it and she twirls it between her index finger and thumb, pensively. “Or perhaps guards of an important Comte? Are you here to take an appointment for your master?”

“My lady.” her assistant intervenes, still bowing. There is reverence in his voice. “I believe the red-haired woman is Inquisitor Lavellan.”

“ _What?_ ” the hairdresser moves in front of Scarlet faster than a lightning spell, almost gliding on the smooth, perfectly clean, marbled floor. She studies her and her clothes from behind her mask, then brings a hand to her mouth.

She is wearing a pair of satin gloves and Scarlet wonders how she can work with those. Her assistant probably does most of the job while she barks orders and does minor stuff.

“Maker preserve me! It _is_ the Inquisitor!”

“Good morning, madame.” Scarlet smiles and the hairdresser steps back, bows even lower than her assistant and says enthusiastically: “Inquisitor, it is such an honor to have you here in my humble shop!”

She raises her head and smiles at Dorian and Cassandra, each showing a different emotion: the first looks unimpressed, the latter rather embarrassed.

“Oh! You must be Lady Penthagast, are you not? And this man…”

“Please, lady, we are not here to waste time in useless introductions.” Dorian cuts her off, politely but curtly at the same time. He leans in and whispers to Scarlet: “I doubt an Orlesian hairdresser would be able to change your hairstyle in a discreet, tasteful work of art. Unless you want to turn your head into a pair of wings.”

“Is the Inquisitor looking for a new style? Perhaps a way to scare the enemies on the battlefield or conquer people’s hearts during her banquets?” the talkative woman intervenes, smiling brightly, _too_ brightly for Scarlet’s comfort.

“I… umh…”

She looks around, not really sure she wants to change drastically her hair, especially here in Orlais. She catches a glimpse of herself in one of the many rounded mirrors and inwardly groans.

She doesn’t look _so bad_ , but her hair is sticking out in all directions due to the wind that is blowing in the streets. There is even a leaf stuck near her ear, probably fell there as they made the trip to Val Royeaux.

But again, is it really that ugly? Or does she think it is only because she has seen so many beautiful, richly dressed people and started to doubt herself and what she thought were her attractive points?

She always liked her red hair and the length of it. The color is the same as her mother’s and the length never bothered her during the hunts. It also looks good when she has the time and will to comb it.

Would she lose a little bit of herself and her Dalish heritage if she accepted to change drastically and follow human customs? Would she really feel more confident and thus do a better job at being Inquisitor… and lover?

“We could cut it, my lady.” the hairdresser continues, showing her a golden pair of scissors laying on a velvet table. “Something short like Lady Penthagast, to feel the blood of your enemies and the cold breeze spray on your neck!”

“This woman is scary.” Cassandra mutters, causing the elven assistant to snort, but the Orlesian woman pays them no mind, she doesn’t even see or hear them. Her whole attention is focused on Scarlet, who hurries to touch the tips of her hair, panicking.

She loves feeling her hair touch her shoulders or drop like a curtain near her face when she looks down. And Solas likes touching it too, especially when they lie read together in bed and before falling asleep.

“I… I like it like this, thank you.”

“What about a change in color, then, mh? Dark, raven hair is the trend of the moment right now.” She lowers her voice as if she was telling a big secret and Scarlet instinctively leans in closer to listen better.

“They say it’s inspired by the new Court Enchanter of the Empress. Influenced much of the fashion here in Val Royeaux and Halamshiral, that woman.”

“I see.” Scarlet tries to imagine herself with black hair, but cannot do it. The image is too jarring and she doesn’t want to lose her red hair.

Surely there must be something she likes and that looks good on her in this city!

“I don’t think I would look good, lady.” she says as most politely as she can, trying to smile. “What about a simple combing?”

“You mean a different hairstyle without changing length and color?” The hairdresser hums, thinking about it and studying Scarlet’s face. “Mh, yes. Round. Large eyes. _Petit_ nose. Full lips.”

She finishes mumbling her thoughts and considerations and beams at her, clapping her gloved hands.

“It shall be done, my lady Inquisitor! Go sit there and don’t worry about anything. André and I will take care of everything.”

Scarlet follows the assistant to one of the many chairs and sits while looking at her reflection in the mirror. She isn’t much sure about this, but if she tried to explain to the hairdresser what she would like, then maybe…

“I’d prefer nothing too… uh…”

“ _Extravagant_.” Dorian completes for her, eyeing the hairdresser with distrust. He and Cassandra refused her offer to change their hairstyles and are sitting near the door on other comfortable velvet chairs, ready to help Scarlet.

“Of course, of course! I know the Inquisitor has much to think about.”

André starts studying her hair, dividing it in different strands and locks as if to braid it, while the hairdresser, who is still spewing words about this and that, glides in another part of the shop to retrieve a glittering golden box.

She rests it on a little round table standing next to Scarlet and smiles enthusiastically, the smile so big Scarlet can count all her teeth.

“What about a change in make-up too, my lady?”

She opens the box and Scarlet peeks into it, swallowing.

There are all kinds of pigments, brushes, and bottles in there. She never saw the majority of them and didn’t know so many different colours to paint someone’s face existed.

“I know you have to deal with many people who aren’t Orlesians, so a full mask of white blush might not be appreciated by everyone.” the woman says with badly hidden distaste.

She recovers immediately from what were most likely ill thoughts about Fereldans and Free Marchers and adds: “But! A beautiful _rouge_ for your lips is exactly what you need! Not this faint orange.”

Scarlet touches her mouth. She always applies a bit of orange shade on the inner part of her lips, so that it appears when she speaks. It’s not much bright, but it’s clearly there and she always thought it looked pretty and even original.

Her mother prepared the colored paste she carries in her bag before she left for the Conclave, just like she helped her find the right shade for her eyes, a beautiful yellow made with the petals of tiny flowers that grow in almost all the fields of the Free Marches.

She has been wearing these colours for years and she blushes as she thinks about the look on Solas’ face whenever he watches her apply the orange lip-paste every morning. He said it was a… sensual sight and a sensual colour.

She would still apply it every morning, it would just be a different shade. Perhaps a red one wouldn’t look bad on her.

“And the eyes! I assume you wanted this… interesting eyeshadow compliment your eyes, Inquisitor, but it absolutely won’t do. Here.” The hairdresser passes something wet over her eyelids and lips and when Scarlet looks back in the mirror, she sees that all her light make-up is gone.

She looks even younger, she thinks. Perhaps new, darker colours will really help her look more adult and reliable.

“Now sit back and let André and I fix this.” the Orlesian woman chuckles. Scarlet nods, leans back, and closes her eyes, trying not to grimace or move too much as the hairdresser dabs brushes and cotton on her eyes and cheeks.

André keeps styling her hair, trying to find the best combination of entwined strands and forms. She feels a bit anxious and embarrassed, having two strangers touch her face and hair like that, but tries to relax all the same.

Some of her discomfort must be evident, though, because Dorian asks worriedly: “Are you alright, my friend?”

She even hears Cassandra get up with great hurry and immediately reassures them, smiling: “I am. This feels good.”

It’s not really _that_ good, but at least André isn’t pulling her hair and the Orlesian woman is careful not to press the brushes too hard on her eyes.

Then, the assistant suddenly announces: “I think I found the right hairstyle for you, my lady. Would you like to see it?”

“Oh, André!” the hairdresser scoffs. “That won’t do! Cover those ears!”

An icy silence falls in the room and Scarlet stays still on the chair for a few seconds, before opening her eyes and glaring at the woman, who hasn’t even realized the seriousness of what she said.

André’s hands are still as well; she can’t see him, but she can imagine his cold, distant expression. She slowly sits up and forcefully moves the woman standing in front of the mirror, ignoring her babbling, confused words.

She gasps. Her hairstyle is actually quite good: two long strands of hair have been pulled behind her head and tied into a braid, leaving her face free and open. It actually reminds her of the hair of some of her friends in the clan and other Dalish elves they met during their travels. André clearly wanted to pay homage to their people.

But then there is the make-up. It’s too bright, too colored, too flashy and tacky. The red on her lips is more like a magenta that doesn’t suit her at all and the hairdresser put too much black eyeliner on her eyes, causing them to look abnormally large. The eyeshadow is _violet_ and Scarlet has no idea what that has to do with her golden eyes.

And her _vallaslin_ have been _covered_. Hidden under a layer of thick foundation.

“My lady, we are not finished yet! We still have to…”

“My ears and marks” Scarlet says, getting up and glaring at the woman, causing her to step back, “are not something that needs to be hidden.” She turns to André, who is looking at her with sad, mortified eyes, and adds respectfully: “Thank you, _lethallin_.”

André stares at her in shock mixed with joy while the hairdresser desperately tries to stop Scarlet from leaving. Before she can touch her, though, Dorian and Cassandra are already standing between her and the Inquisitor, hands fisted and a dark look in their eyes.

 

\- - - -

 

“We should do something! I will ask Josephine for information about that place! Leliana! Leliana will know what to do!”

Cassandra walks back and forth, grumbling curses at the hairdresser, while Dorian helps Scarlet remove the horrible make-up… and her tears too. They are sitting on the edge of a golden fountain and Scarlet observes her reflection in the water with sad eyes.

“She would probably murder that woman somehow.” the Altus flatly says, washing away the last traces of eyeshadow with a water spell. He softens and squishes Scarlet’s cheeks, saying with a hopeful smile: “There, gorgeous as always. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes. Thank you.” she sniffles, pushing away the last tears of rage and mortification. She thought she was used to being treated badly by humans by now, but the respect and love she found in her human friends and the ones she earned as Inquisitor even among human agents, mages, and soldiers probably spoiled her and softened her heart even more.

“That disgusting… wretched… horrible…” Cassandra keeps muttering, shaking angrily her fists and walking back and forth the little alley they are hiding in without pause. She stops only to narrow her eyes at Dorian and ask: “Do you remember the name of that place?”

“ _Madame Clarisse’s_ something. Don’t worry, I will remember the location and give it to Leliana.” He is speaking calmly, but there is a fire raging in his eyes as he gently unties Scarlet’s hair. “I’m sure she will do a great job.”

“No, I don’t want to cause any problems.” Scarlet says softly, playing with a corner of her long green jacket. “The last thing the Inquisition needs is a bad reputation. If people heard the Inquisitor punished a hairdresser for having disrespected her, they would think I am a tyrant.”

“They would say you did the right thing!” Cassandra corrects her, snarling in rage, but Scarlet smiles and shakes her head, continuing: “It’s alright, guys, really! I’m just…”

She stops and looks down at her mudded boots, while her hair falls near her face again.

“Frustrated?” Dorian says, slowly ruffing her hair one last time. “Upset? Disappointed?” He sighs and rests his forehead on her shoulder, mumbling sadly: “This was a terrible idea. I should have known Val Royeaux was nothing but a gilded shithole.”

“That’s not true, Dorian. I’m glad we came here.” She rubs his back, smiling. “We are going to that beautiful restaurant in the market later and the rooms we booked in that tavern looked great! This is going to be a good, relaxing day!”

“Yes, but what about your change in style?” Cassandra steps in, finally calmer. “Perhaps we could try somewhere else once we are done with Adamant? What about Denerim?”

“ _Denerim?_ ” Dorian splutters, immediately raising his head and gawking at her. “If Val Royeaux is a gilded shithole, Denerim is a mudded pit of despair!”

“Dorian!” Scarlet chides him, folding her arms and using her ‘stern Inquisitor’ face. “Don’t say these things!”

“ _Ugh_.” he huffs and pouts, but doesn’t insist. She smiles and thumps him.

“And stop imitating Cassandra.”

“He doesn’t put enough disgust into it.” the Seeker jokes, smiling when Scarlet starts giggling and Dorian grins cheerfully.

“I guess I’ll just have to sew something for myself then.” Scarlet says in the end, wrapping her arms around her legs. “I don’t think I’ll be able to find a good outfit that suits me and my tastes here or in Ferelden.”

“Am I wrong to believe there aren’t many elven seamstresses in Thedas?” Dorian timidly asks and she smiles sadly at him, shaking her head.

“You are not wrong. I’m sure there are no elves who can afford buying or rent such an expensive shop, just like there are no elves who can afford to have something tailored for them.” She finds a pebble on the edge of the fountain and throws it into the water, watching the ripples form on its surface.

“Our homeland doesn’t exist anymore, so we can’t even look for typical elven dresses, clothes, and make-up there. It’s just humans, dwarves, and Qunari, while elves either survive in the alienages with that little they can spare or in the wilderness like the Dalish.”

Her voice gets softer and sadder, her gaze distant and melancholic.

“We don’t even know how our ancestors dressed like, exactly.”

Dorian is quiet and he looks almost shocked, as if a sudden realization dawned upon him. He looks into the water as well, frowning like he is thinking hard about something, and before Cassandra can break the silence, someone else does it for her.

“Umh… excuse me?”

They all turn to the entrance of the alley and see André stand there, timidly fidgeting.

“Forgive me for bothering you, Inquisitor.” he says, bowing deeply like before. “I managed to leave the shop with an excuse. I wanted to apologize for what happened.”

“There is no need, really.” Scarlet reassures him, getting up and smiling kindly at him. “You actually did a wonderful job.”

“I… I also wanted to thank you for what you said to me. For calling me like that.”

The male elf looks behind his shoulders, as if he fearing to see Madame Colette appear out of nowhere, then says with venom in his voice and eyes: “That old hag feels only profound _indifference_ for our kind. It’s not disgust, she just doesn’t care about elves. She never even bothered to learn my name right and butchered it into André to make it sound more Orlesian.”

“That’s…. not your real name?” Dorian asks, raising his eyebrows, and the elf shakes his head, making a face.

“No, my lord. My parents gave me an elven name, Andean. I… I don’t know what it means, but…” He loses his cool and panics, rummaging into his pockets and babbling quickly.

“H-Here!”

He retrieves a piece of yellow paper and offers it to Scarlet with both hands, bowing his head again.

She notices his nails are colored, a deep blue that fits his clothes, but doesn’t have much time to think about it.

She takes the piece of paper and reads it: it looks like an address of sort to find… a place.

“That will take you to a shop in the alienage, my lady.” Andean explains, respectfully taking two steps back. “I couldn’t help but hear the last part of your conversation. There might not be elven tailors and seamstresses, but we do small things and try to remember what we can.”

“That’s true.” Scarlet beams at him, before looking back at the paper. “What kind of shop is this?”

“It’s…” Andean is about to say it, but then changes his mind and shakes his head with a smile. “You’ll see, my lady. I hope it will make you feel better, though.”

“Thank you, _lethallin_.” she says gratefully, bowing her head, and the other elf does the same before excusing himself with a happy smile and leaving.

“See?” Scarlet grins at her friends. “I told you it was going to be a good day!”

 

\- - - -

 

Dorian and Cassandra wait for her outside the entrance to the alienage, not wanting to upset or scare the elves living there.

She never saw an alienage before, but her Keeper would often say how sad and filthy they were due to the poor living conditions wanted and caused by humans.

She can see it’s true, even in the case of the alienage of Val Royeaux, which she expected to be better than the others in other cities, for some reasons. However, just because the city is pretty, doesn’t mean its alienage must be too.

She can see how hard the city elves try to survive and find scraps of happiness wherever they can: many of the windows are painted with vivid colors and there are ribbons tied to them whose other end is tied to the _vhenadahl_ , the huge, tall tree towering at the center of the plaza.

It reminds her of the central market of Val Royeaux, but while that one felt almost oppressive, with its satin ribbons and golden statues and fountains, this one reminds her of her clan.

But the houses here are also all made of frail wood and she can only imagine how many drafts they let enter every night, just like how easy it would be to set them on fire… like Empress Celene apparently did in Halamshiral.

While the smells in her clan were mostly of leather, food, oils, and embers, here she smells foul things; whenever the wind rises, she has to stop breathing for a few seconds.

Her current armor doesn’t have any hood, so she is forced to walk with her face visible to anyone. Her crimson _vallaslin_ seem to glow on her pale skin and her leather jacket, boots, and shining daggers don’t help her catch less attention.

All the elves she encounter gasp, whisper, murmur with each other, and stare at her with wide eyes. The younger ones even follow her and soon she hears them pronounce her title with reverence and shock.

“The Inquisitor Lavellan? Here?”

“It can’t be.”

“Who else could she be? She’s Dalish and she’s wearing all that good stuff and the pin on her jacket is…”

“Mamae, let me see the pretty lady!”

“Is she going to our _hahren_? Maybe she’s here to help us!”

Those last words struck her. She _has_ to do something. She doesn’t care if the Empress will argue with her: she will ask Josephine and Leliana to send help here as soon as possible.

_‘We should help the other alienages too. Maybe if the Inquisition gathered even more support and influence…?’_

And perhaps, once they have finally dealt with that Ball looming on the horizon and ended this civil war once and for all, she will be able to gain more leverage with the Empress and force her to help the city elves of her empire.

Adamant looks like an extremely annoying bother right now… but she might use their victory there to surprise and amaze the Orlesian court. Provided they win, of course, but she has hope. She always has hope.

Not used to all that attention, even after all these months spent being Inquisitor, Scarlet lowers her head, lets the curtain of red hair hide her flushed face, and follows the instructions on the piece of paper. Behind her, more and more people are following her, like a procession.

She reaches the shop or at least what it’s supposed to be it. There are no signs hanging above the door, but she followed the instructions without mistakes, so it should be here.

Taking a deep breath, not knowing what to expect, she knocks on the door and turns to the people watching her from afar while waiting. A little child waves at her with a big smile that is missing some teeth and she smiles and waves back, causing him to giggle and hide his face against his mother’s long, torn dress.

Just then, the door opens and a middle-aged elf appears in front of her. His dark eyes widen when he sees her and his mouth hangs open as she smiles at him too.

“Hello.” she says, bowing her head like she did with Andrean. “I… umh… I was told this was a shop. Though I have no idea what kind of shop it is, to be honest.”

“This…” The man looks behind her, sees all the people gathered near the tree, then swallows and looks back at Scarlet. “This is a colour shop. We sell colours for the hands.”

He spots the Inquisition pin on her jacket and blanches, so Scarlet says before he can faint or think she is some miraculous vision:

“That sounds interesting! May I enter?” She chuckles sadly and removes her right glove, showing him her calloused hand full of small scars. “As you can see, my hands don’t look that good right now.”

She purposefully showed him her right hand instead of her left one to avoid upsetting him with the Mark, but the man glances at her left hand all the same, curiosity shining in his eyes, before nodding and letting her enter.

“Forgive the disorder, we… ah…” He rushes to move away some boxes blocking the way to the counter, behind which many little colored bottles are lined up on a shelf in a neat row.

“Dear…?” a feminine voice calls from another room, then an elven woman enters. She sees Scarlet and brings a hand on her mouth to stifle her shout. She looks back and forth from her husband to her, looking for a confirmation.

“Good morning, my lady.” Scarlet greets her, bowing again, then sees her fingernails.

Each nail is colored in a different way, from a bright yellow to a dark green. Her hands are ruined due to all the hard work she probably went through in her life, but her nails seem to bring them life, a sort of cheerfulness Scarlet immediately falls in love with.

“Nail polish!” she exclaims, beaming at the two elves. “You sell nail polish!”

Some of her clan-mates used to wear it: they were those who spent more time near the hearth or the halla and thus the simple colours obtained from crushed flowers or leaves lasted longer.

The hunters and huntresses like her had no reason to use it, since they would have scraped it off during their hunts, but she always admired the Keeper’s long, green nails and the children’s red or yellow ones where they had pressed tiny flowers to stamp their image onto them while the paste was still fresh.

She knows some humans like to wear it too, but as for now she has never seen it on any Orlesian, Fereldan, or Free Marcher’s hand. Perhaps it is more common in the northern regions: Dorian likes to wear a black kind of nail polish, after all, even though he often forgets to put it back on now.

The one this family is selling looks extremely original: she can see different shades mixed in each bottles, not just pure colours, and the lady’s nails seem to change hues depending on the light.

“They are enchanted, my lady.” the elven merchant says with a smile. “We… uh… there is someone who helps us put magic in them so the colours are nicer and last longer.”

Scarlet doesn’t ask more, suspecting it’s probably their child or a friend who did a good job in avoiding the Templars. She smiles and nods, then looks longingly back at the bottles.

“Would you like to try one, Your Worship?” the lady asks, finally recovering from the shock. “It would be an honor to serve the Inquisitor Lavellan in our shop.”

“They look so beautiful. But my hands…” Scarlet opens her right, ungloved hand and blushes. “Well, let’s say they went through a lot. They never looked so bad, not even when I still lived with my clan.”

The two other elves chuckle kindly and the woman lets her sit in front of the counter.

“Look, Your Worship.” she says, showing her own hands. “My hands aren’t that good either, but this nail polish isn’t like the stuff the humans sell in their markets together with all their silly dyes and tinctures.” She beams at Scarlet, a wrinkled freckled face that reminds her so much of her mother. “This is elven stuff! Only good herbs, the right enchantments, and the talent that makes us… _us_.”

“It started as a decoration to make the children happy.” her husband adds, placing on the counters some of the bottles. “Something to make their life more colorful and make them feel elegant like the rich human children they saw sometimes in the city.”

“Then it became part of us. Almost all the elves here in Val Royeaux wear this. It’s our little secret, another way to rebel. It will always be more beautiful and original of the bland, frail nail polish the humans use.”

The male elf opens one bottle and shows her the colour inside: it’s red, but also green, and specks of liquid gold dance in it, swirling elegantly. Scarlet stares at it, agape.

“It has healing properties too! That’s why my hands aren’t worse than what they could be!” the wife jokes, bursting into a loud, booming laughter, followed by her husband. Scarlet grins, before losing herself in that ever-changing sea of colours.

The owners show her many other bottles, but she adores the first one and so lets the lady applies it to her nails with a small, rudimentary brush.

The final effect is magnificent and her hands look rejuvenated, new. Even her nails look finally longer and she can’t stop staring at the colour subtly changing, at the hues slightly shifting whenever she moves or the light hits her fingers.

“Why don’t you sell these masterpieces in the city?” she asks, breathless, but the couple smiles bitterly.

“We fear the humans’ envy and retaliation.” the husband explains. “Also we don’t have the money to buy a place in Val Royeaux… not that the humans would ever let us do so.”

“But this is incredible! It’s such a small, simple thing, but it helps people feel better and it brightens their day! And… and it’s _elven_!”

She thinks how sad and _ugly_ she was feeling that morning and the previous days and now this touch of colour on her hands is making her feel like the most elegant person in Thedas.

“Listen.” she says resolutely, a promise in her eyes. “I swear I’ll do anything in my power to fix things in this alienage and all the others of Orlais, possibly even of Thedas. It might take some time, but I’ll do it, I swear it.”

“Oh, bless you, Inquisitor!” the wife cries, covering her face with her hands to hide her tears and sobs. Her husband’s eyes are veiled with tears too, but he is smiling brightly.

Scarlet looks at the shelf where more bottles are still lined and says: “I have some friends who would like those a lot, but some of them are humans. Would that be alright?”

“If they are your friends, Inquisitor, I’m willing to make all the nail polish they want.”

Scarlet smiles at that, then asks slowly, tilting her head while still looking at the bottles: “How much is each?”

“Oh, no, Inquisitor! It’s free for you!” the older woman exclaims and her husband agrees to her, refusing to even reveal the cost.

Scarlet suspects the price must be extremely low, probably a few bronze coins (or _pennies_ , like they are called in Orlais), since everyone in the alienage bought it. So she takes out her money pouch, this time filled to the brim, and drops all its content on the counter.

The two other elves stare at all that wealth with shock mixed to disbelief, as if the mere idea that all that money existing at the same time in the same place is beyond them.

“Will this be enough for my bottle and those on the first row?” Scarlet asks with a big, happy grin.

 

\- - - -

 

“ _You spent all your money?_ ” Dorian splutters, his eyes almost falling out of their pockets. “Please, _please_ , tell me I heard that wrong!”

“You heard it right!” Scarlet giggles, adjusting her now heavier bag. “I think the husband was going to faint, but then he and his wife started crying and laughing and they hugged me and…”

“I-Inquisitor.” Cassandra babbles, breathing heavily. “What could you possibly have found there that…”

“And they said they will be able to fix the shop and their house and probably a good part of the alienage with that sum! The _hahren_ thanked me and look, they gave me flowers!” She points at the beautiful flowers they wove in her hair and that’s when Dorian notices her nail polish.

“What’s this?” he asks, taking her hand and studying her fingers. “It’s… _oh_!”

“Isn’t it _beautiful_?” Scarlet says breathlessly, oozing joy from every pore. “It’s elven! You can find it only here! And I gave that couple official permission to open a booth in the courtyard of Skyhold whenever they want, _but first_ I want to improve the living conditions of all alienages and I’ll need the Empress’ support for that, _so_ we have to…”

“Inquisitor.” Cassandra laughs. “We are glad you found what you were looking for.” She looks at her hands too and adds timidly: “This is quite nice. I was never a big fan of nail polish, but I like this one.”

“I bought one for you! And for you too, Dorian!”

“This is fantastic.” the Altus is muttering, observing her nails under any possible light. “Enchanted, isn’t it? The spell is simple, but effective. Such a peculiar, awesome idea!”

“The shapes forming on the surface are elven.” Scarlet explains proudly. “The owners and their son saw them in a ruin during a trip and wrote them down. Oh, and…” She rummages into her bag and takes out two different bottles: one containing black and purple colours, the other silver and blue.

She gives the first one to Dorian and the second one to Cassandra; the Altus reacts enthusiastically, while the Seeker timidly, but it’s obvious she appreciates the thought and finds those hues to be beautiful.

“Come on, let’s go back to the first alley!” Scarlet says cheerfully, a huge smile splitting her round face in half and forming dimples on her reddened cheeks. Thanks to the magic colours on her nails and the flowers in her head, she feels ready to face anything, even the most snobbish nobles.

 

The others are waiting for them near the bookshop.

Cole is wearing a new hat, silver threads running along the brim, the metal tip made of Silverite, the fabric of high, resilient quality. He is standing next to Vivienne, smiling happily, while she does her best to ignore him, without much success.

It seems that Solas and Varric had a good time too: their bags are full of books and Solas lights up when he spots Scarlet. She rushes to him and throws her arms around him, making him chuckle.

“Had fun?” he asks with a smile, while the others discreetly leave them alone. He notices the lack of her light make-up and frowns, worried. “What happened, _vhenan_?”

“Nothing.” she giggles, peppering his face with little, teasing kisses. “It was a great day! Did you find some good books?”

“I think so.” He looks happy like a child and shows her the book he’s holding, one about sewing patterns and ideas for clothes and sewed stuff. “I… I bought this for you and…”

He sees her hands and blinks, tilting his head.

“Is that… nail polish?”

“Yes!” She grins, bouncing up and down. “I bought it in the alienage! It’s _elven_ , Solas, no one else can make it like this! Look, its colour changes and different shapes appear and…”

Solas brings her right hand close to his face and admires the red nails; he sees the green within the red and the golden specks and spirals that form on it and smiles, wonder and surprise in his eyes.

“This is stunning and so original. And this colour fits you, _vhenan_.” He looks at her, at the flowers in her hair, at the love, joy, and contentment on her face, at her blush, then he kisses each of her finger.

“You are gorgeous.” he murmurs, love in his own eyes too. Despite her shyness, she throws her arms around his neck again and replies, giggling again: “I know!”

Solas laughs with her, swaying her in his arms, and says: “I am glad. You must never forget it.”

She bites her lower lip and whispers in his ear, getting redder than her nail polish: “While we came here, I bought something else too.” She blinks and bashfully corrects herself: “… Actually, Dorian lent me the money because I spent everything for the nail polish.”

Solas makes a strangled sound, but lets her continue: “It’s a pretty nightgown! I’m sure you will like it a lot!”

She lowers her voice even more and concludes innocently: “It’s transparent and open on the back.”

He inhales and when she pulls away to look at him, his face is as red as hers and his free hand on her waist is threatening to move lower to cup her ass. Overcome by her shyness and the intensity of his gaze, Scarlet lowers her eyes, smiling excitedly, and she laughs again when he nibbles at her earlobe.

They go back to their friends, hand in hand, and Solas plays with her fingers, admiring the magic red on them. He does so also when she opens the book he bought for her and thanks him; he blushes and smiles goofily when he sees she noticed how intensely he is staring at her hands.

She never felt more beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a (LONG-ASS) update! ( ´ ▽ ` ) SERIOUSLY, THIS IS SO LONG, WHY ME
> 
> This chapter focused more on Scarlet and the other companions, but I really wanted to show how even the little things can make someone happy and change their day for the best. ; v ; 
> 
> The idea of Scarlet wearing nail polish actually came from this [wonderful commission](http://hedgehawke.tumblr.com/post/148792066218/expression-sheet-commission-for-lafaiette) [hedgehawke](http://hedgehawke.tumblr.com/) made for me, in which Scarlet's nails are colored. I really loved that, so I decided to explore that concept (and the 'I have to be more confident to be a better Inquisitor' problem) while also exploring the loss the elven people experienced and their constant struggle to remember and create more of their history. 
> 
> The party and the oral sex Dorian mentions come from [Hearth Cakes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3977647). The ugly nightgown Scarlet received from a human tailor comes from [Warm](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5033356).


	7. I Love You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before Making Love.

She needs to - wants to - say a certain thing, a sequence of words that she has already been told, but hasn’t had the occasion, courage, and chance to say in return.

They are really important words, whose meaning doesn’t change depending on the language they are spoken in.

They are sacred, especially to her, who has never been in a relationship with someone before, and they are curative, healing words, especially for him, who probably never had anyone say them to him.

She has waited until now because she doesn’t know how and when to pronounce them. He did that on the balcony, after their second kiss, the one in the waking world, and they got stuck in her heart, mind, and mouth like they were another part of her, fusing with her.

She wants to say them back, show him how much he matters to her too, how important to her he is.

She wants him to be the first and only one who will ever hear her say those words, her first and only love, for all eternity. And those words mean this and so much more, there is an entire message carried within them, millennia of feelings and emotions summarized in four sounds.

She calls him _vhenan_ , my love, _ma sa’lath_ , but she wants to say _it_ clearly. Let him know beyond any doubt,  let him know for certain, let him know and believe it forever.

But when is it the right moment? Is it when they are alone in their rooms, at night, reading and writing and sewing before going to sleep? Is it when they are walking hand in hand as they pass through the most peaceful parts of the many regions they explore? Or is it when things get dangerous and death is all around them and her words of love would bring light on his worried, tired face?

Would he be embarrassed to hear her say that in front of other people? Would he be embarrassed to hear that in the first place or, as she believes, would he be flattered and happy?

She doesn’t know. She has no idea how this works, if there are rules about this, if Solas expects something in particular, if she would be too bold or embarrassing or…

He _did_ tell her those words, though. They made her feel tingly and warm inside, her heart bloomed like a flower and she felt so overjoyed that she laid in bed with her face squished against a pillow and a huge smile splitting her flushed face in half.

She should have said it back, returned those four words, but instead she got flustered, even more timid than usual and was only able to watch him walk down the stairs, heart racing fast in her chest.

She tries multiple times to say it, but every time they are interrupted or the moment doesn’t feel right at all. It’s like the world suddenly decides to play with her and make things more difficult.

She wants to say it in a special place too, so that spirits will hear her and remember the scene, playing it in the Fade for everyone to see and making it eternal, like her love for him, like his love for her.

But special places are apparently _crowded_ these days and every time she opens her mouth to speak, someone calls her or asks for her presence elsewhere or simply bothers them with their presence or loud talking.

When she and Solas are alone, she is her own worst enemy, together with her shyness and awkwardness, fortunately milder and less crushing when she has to be Inquisitor and deal with world-changing matters.

But this _is_ world-changing for her and she nearly cries whenever she thinks she can’t do it, that no matter how much she tries those words will sound stupid, boring, stale, babbled, incorrectly pronounced, and she will ruin everything.

Before their relationship proceeds any further, though, before things will get _physical_ , she has to say it.

Solas deserves it and now saying it has become necessary to her like water or food; she can’t keep that sentence inside herself any longer.

Cole senses she is troubled and promptly tries to help. In fact, she goes to him not just to give him his hat that she repaired after a bad fight, but also to hear his advice.

He is adorably and frighteningly blunt and direct.

“Tell him.” he says, pushing the hat back on his blond head. “He will hurt at first, because he feels he doesn’t deserve your love, but he will be also happy, racing in a golden forest and whining happily in the grass.”

Scarlet doesn’t understand the last part, but the first one is clear and she blushes and babbles worriedly: “How… How should I say it? Is he waiting for something romantic or…”

“He’s dreading it.” Cole gently interrupts her, caressing the rabbit he found in the courtyard. He finds all kinds of animals and takes care of them in his place above the tavern, often helped by Scarlet.

She goes pale and the spirit boy senses her surprise, confusion, and fear, repeating: “He thinks he doesn’t deserve your love. Hands shaking, eyes welling with tears, love bursting inside his chest - he wants to keep you safe from pain and regret.”

“But I will never regret this!” she exclaims, getting up from the box she was sitting on. “Oh, Cole, how could I ever regret loving him?”

He beams at her, long legs dangling from the barrel, and his hands keep delicately stroking the rabbit’s soft fur.

“It’s good that you think that.” he says. “Good and important.”

“Cole.” she says, her voice rising due to panic. “Would it be okay if I told him that? I mean, if he’s going to feel bad, I don’t…”

“He will feel bad, but then he will be happy.” he corrects her. “The joy you will give him will be superior to anything else. An unquenchable flame burns in the wolf since he kissed his heart.” Cole’s smile grows. “Since he kissed you.”

Scarlet smiles back and stays there a little longer, two red dots on her cheeks and her hands busy with the other rabbit Cole brought along. She comes up with possible scenarios, all the possible ways such a simple thing can be done, and hopes she won’t ruin it.

She thanks Cole before going, both with words and with a kiss on his forehead, and the spirit boy waves at her as she goes down the stairs, the two rabbits sleeping safely on his lap.

She tries to tell Solas that same night, while they lie in bed.

He is reading a book whose ancient, complex language is lost to her; she is busying herself with lighter stuff, _The Sword of Drakon_ by Marquise Freyette, one of the most loved theatrical plays in Orlais. Solas found an interesting copy for her, full of interesting notes written on the margins by a scholar.

“I wonder if they will ever write a play about me.” she sighs, already knowing they would probably hide her ears and _vallaslin_. Solas chuckles and kisses her hair, saying: “I believe there is a high chance, my love.”

“Well, I hope they will include everyone, then.” she grumbles, sure that whatever human writer decided to make such a thing, they would undoubtedly focus on her supposed link to Andraste and the holiness of her mission that has been bestowed upon her without her approval.

“And that they will at least _try_ to remember things correctly.” she adds, closing the book and slipping it under the mattress, ready to be read the next day.

Solas closes his book too after putting between its pages the bookmark Scarlet gave him - a beautiful flower she found which reminded her of his eyes -, then wraps an arm around her shoulders and nuzzles her cheek.

“History won’t be always kind.” he admits softly, taking her right hand and holding it gently. She sees him smile from behind her long eyelashes. “But you can make sure it will remember how kind _you_ are, _vhenan_. Why don’t you hire an historian? Or, better yet, you could write your own memories and publish them.”

She babbles at that, blushing so much Solas chuckles again and squishes her face.

“I… I can’t do that.” she splutters, her voice sounding weird since he is still pressing her cheeks. It’s what she likes to do with him, especially when he is being either grumpy or adorable, and it’s clear he is having a great time.

“Why not?” he asks, smiling and raising an eyebrow. She wriggles a bit, but he doesn’t let her go and keeps squishing her cheeks and peppering her face with little, light kisses that tickle her. “Many important figures of the past wrote their own story to avoid being misunderstood or forgotten.”

He gives her one last kiss, this time on her pursed lips, before letting her go. She jokingly pouts at him, laughing when he nuzzles her face again, pulling her into his warm embrace.

“I’m not good at writing about myself.” she says, trying to ignore the heat growing in her belly and spreading down to her groin.

Sleeping together with Solas is getting difficult, because she constantly imagines him in… other positions, doing _things_ to her and receiving other _things_ from her in return.

But before doing _that_ , she needs to - wants to - tell him those words.

“I’d probably talk only about you and the others.” she continues, smiling when he kisses her forehead and follows the soft curve of her ear with a finger. A pleasant shiver runs down her back and she makes a funny sound, making him grin.

“Still, it would be an excellent way to let the world know you.” he says, but doesn’t insist and drops the topic with grace, adding instead: “In the meantime, I will do my best to paint your story on the walls of the rotunda.”

Scarlet chuckles and sees him smile at her with endless adoration, the love and tenderness in his eyes reserved to her only, one of the greatest gifts he gives her every day of their life together.

Blushing and breathing way too heavily for this to be somewhat elegant, she prepares to say _it_ , to pronounce those words he told her on the balcony. She already wasted too much time.

“Solas, I…”

Realization shines on his face like a new dawn and he clears his throat, gently pulling away to blow out the candles with a wave of his hand.

She saw fear and trepidation mixed together on his face too, but in the end fear won and now they are in the dark; the only source of light comes from the dying embers in the fireplace and the moonlight invading the room from the high windows.

“We should sleep, my love.” Solas says, his voice a gentle, sad whisper. She feels his lips on hers, then on her forehead; he lies down and waits for her to do the same so that he can welcome her in his arms.

She doesn’t do it immediately, though. She looks at him, heart beating like a hammer in her chest, and sees his eyes, shining in the dark, widen.

“ _Vhenan_?” he asks, moving to sit up again, but she smiles and gently pushes him back down, resting at his side.

Then she moves him until his face is tucked under her chin and she can kiss the top of his smooth, bald head.

“Uh.” He stays perfectly still and she fights her shyness to wraps her arms around him even more tightly, hoping her breasts don’t feel too small.

“Are you… are you comfortable?” she asks and he slowly relaxes, until he is a puddle of contentment in her arms.

“Incredibly so.” he says, a smile in his voice, and Scarlet kisses his head again.

“Good.”

He thinks he doesn’t deserve her and her love, so she will do anything in her power to make him understand that he is the only one in the world who deserves her. The only one she wants to give her heart and soul to.

For now, this will do. But soon she will tell him clearly, without hesitation, and even if he’s going to panic a little at first, she will keep telling him, day after day, until they are old and wrinkled and their souls ready for the Beyond, that he is worthy of love, until he finally believes it, until he can finally be proud of himself too.

 

\- - - -

 

She tries to tell him a few days later, as he lies in his bedroll, as blood seeps through his bandages and ragged breaths through his chapped lips.

He took a bad hit from the giant that lives in the Forbidden Oasis and is now painfully recovering in the nearest Inquisition camp.

He is the only mage in the group and he is too weak to perform healing spells on himself; Scarlet has been feeding him health potions, warm soup, and kisses since from the first day.

“ _Vhenan_.” he chuckles, the sound ending in a gurgling, hoarse noise. He can see the fear and panic on her face and lifts a shaky hand to caress it. “I’m fine.”

She sniffles, but nods, trying her best to appear and be strong. They have been through worse. He will win this too. He just needs rest and more tonics.

She nearly tells him now. There are probably many spirits pressing against the Veil right now, attracted to the violence and blood they witnessed, perhaps attracted to the love they can sense in this tent too.

They would remember this scene and play it in the Beyond, more memories of this place collected among the spirits and demons and dreams.

But it wouldn’t be romantic, it wouldn’t be a completely positive memory: Solas is badly hurt, barely conscious due to bloodloss, and it would sound like the desperate act of someone who fears her lover is going to die soon.

She doesn’t want to scare him or upset him more than he already is. This is _not_ the right time.

So she curls up at his side, careful not to touch his wounds, and grips his hand tightly, ready to help him whenever he wants.

This time, he moves so that her head is tucked under his chin and they fall asleep like that, their soft sounds lulling each other to the Fade.

And then, not even a week later, they are back at Skyhold. Solas has recovered, although his muscles still ache greatly and his new scars won’t stop itching.

Despite this, he doesn’t stop working on his notes and papers, not even when his back starts hurting and his stomach angrily requests food.

The Advisors requested him many important documents and he hates being behind his schedule, especially when this means he cannot help those in need.

His calculations might aid those who still suffer the consequences of the Breach and he dedicates himself completely to this, dismissing the effects of the battle against the giant as mere nuisances.

“Solas. Let’s go to sleep.” Scarlet tells him one evening, as he stubbornly insists to stay in the rotunda a little longer to finish an extremely long paper about the influences of the Rifts onto healing magic (useful for the mages of the Inquisition working far from the fortress, Leliana said).

“I will join you in a short while.” he promises, kissing her cheek before going back to his notes scattered all over the desk. “I just need to write one last thing and then…” He huffs, lifting books and other parchments. “Where is it…?”

She retrieves the page he was looking for. She knows his research as well as he does now and he smiles at her, grateful and in awe, before getting back to writing.

“How is your back?” she asks, standing next to him and resting her hands on his shoulders. She sighs before he can reply. “Tense and knotted as always, I see.”

“It will get better after a good night of rest in your arms.” he says, writing fast on the yellowish paper, his handwriting elegant and neat, easy to the eyes.

All his fingers are stained with ink and Scarlet spots some on the side and back of his hands too; she leans down and presses a kiss on his nape, then begins to massage his shoulders and back, smiling fondly.

Solas immediately moans and melts under her touch, even slouching onto the tall chair, biting his lower lip to stifle more sounds.

Scarlet continues for a while, careful not to shake him or move him too much since he’s still writing, but she makes sure all his knots and the tension on his shoulders are gone. Once he is completely, utterly relaxed, she leans down again and plants the softest of kisses on his head.

“Better?” she asks and he replies with a small, happy noise, catching her right hand and nuzzling it.

“Thank you, _vhenan_.”

He writes some more, the scratching of the quill on the paper just one of the few sounds in the echoing rotunda; Scarlet can hear the noise of the magic fire that burns on the scaffold, the rustling of books and papers on the second floor, Solas’ sounds as he clears his throat, moves his feet on the carpet, or scratches his cheek.

Then he finally gets up, holding the yellow page like it’s his ultimate masterpiece. He smiles at it and Scarlet can see he wants to be proud of himself, but doesn’t really allow himself to do it.

“There, it should be finished now. Let me reread it and see if anything is missing, then…”

She starts giggling and he blushes, blinking twice, quickly, not understanding what’s happening.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. He looks down at his clothes, then at the parchment, then babbles: “What?”

“Your face.” she explains, taking out a clean handkerchief from her pocket. “It’s stained with ink. Wait…”

She licks her thumb and rubs the huge, dark line that runs across his cheek, then uses the handkerchief on it, grinning when Solas scrunches up his nose.

“How did it even end up here?” she giggles, now rubbing the tip of his left ear, which is completely back and sticky. Solas smiles sheepishly and blushes, shrugging.

“… Too much work?” he offers and she sighs, raising an eyebrow.

“You can say that. You’re going to take three days of full rest, Solas, and that’s an order.”

Solas presses a kiss on her nose that manages to be innocent and mischievous at the same time.

“Yes, Inquisitor.”

“But…” She looks down at the paper he’s still holding and smiles. “You did an excellent job. I’m sure this will help our mages greatly and they will be able to help people better.”

She smiles at him and Solas’ face gets even redder and his smile is flustered and flattered.

“It was nothing.” he says, but now pride openly shines in his eyes and Scarlet kisses him, before saying:

“I’m proud of you, _vhenan_.”

Solas looks about to combust. His smile is so big it’s a wonder his cheeks aren’t aching as much as his muscles and he looks down, a timid light accompanying the joy in his eyes, his blush spreading to his ears and neck too.

“Thank you.” he says softly, choked up, and the flame in Scarlet’s heart, unquenchable like Cole said, burns stronger than she could have possibly imagined within her.

She looks at Solas, at the blurred stains of ink on his face, at his blush and freckles and gentle eyes, at his happy smile; she feels his hand on her waist, his touch never rude, and sees him try to find something else to say, uncharacteristically at loss for words.

And then she says it.

“ _Ar lath, ma vhenan_.”

Solas’ head snaps to where she is, his eyes wide and full of disconcert and contrasting emotions.

She sees sadness, surprise… guilt? But also joy, oh so much joy, and more love than she ever saw before in her life!

“ _Ar lath, ma vhenan_.” she repeats, getting emotional. Tears well up in her eyes. She never told anyone this before, this is her first time, her first declaration of love, and it’s for Solas, all for Solas and for him only.

She hopes she doesn’t sound stupid. Is the pronunciation correct?

“I love you.” she says in the Common tongue, unable to look away from his eyes. “I love you a lot, Solas.”

She lowers her gaze, twisting the handkerchief in her hands. She feels torn between elation and worry, between relief and panic.

“I… I’m sorry for waiting so long to tell you. I tried to say it before, but there was never the chance or people would always interrupt us or the moment wasn’t…”

She looks up again and stops: Solas’ eyes are shiny with tears and his hands are shaking. Cole told her he would have suffered at first, but this is…!

Was he wrong? Did _she_ do the wrong thing? Should she have waited longer to say it?

“Solas…!”

He throws the paper on the desk and lunges at her: his kiss is so passionate and impetuous, she barely has time to catch her breath. He kisses her and holds her tightly, as if fearing she is going to disappear soon and he’s going to lose her forever.

He kisses her and kisses her until they are both out of breath and then he pulls away, but not too much, breathing heavily against her cheek. Scarlet clings to his clothes and listens to him as he whispers frantically in her ear: “ _Ar lath, ar lath, ar lath_ …”

Then he faces her and yes, he has been crying, but now only his long eyelashes are wet and a wild force, strength, which Scarlet knows will never hurt her, has set his eyes ablaze.

“I love you.” he says. “More than words, in any language known in this world, can express.”

“I love you too.” she immediately says back, seizing every chance to repeat it. Solas smiles, a big, blinding smile that finally destroys any fear lingering in her heart, and she knows that everything is going to be alright, that she did the right thing.

He takes her hand and they quietly go to their rooms. There, they dress for the night and slip under the heavy blankets, cuddling against each other, legs tangled together.

“Will… Will you say it again?” Solas timidly asks, the light of the candles still lit making golden and orange shadows dance on his face.

He looks sheepish, bashful, but when Scarlet beams at him and repeats those words - “ _Ar lath, ma vhenan. Ma sa’lath_. _Ar lath, emma lath, ma uthlath._ ” -, he smiles like before and rests his head down onto the pillow, looking at her with dreamy eyes until she is as red as a tomato.

She is about to hide her face, her lips twitching and curling into an overjoyed smile, when they hear them.

Wolves, howling in the distance. It happens often, especially at night, when Skyhold is quieter and the life surrounding the fortress and the Frostback Mountains can be heard more easily.

Scarlet listens intently, enjoying the sound. It’s almost reassuring, warm. It speaks of home, it’s a call between family members, perhaps a message of hope.

“Do you hear them, _ma vhenan_?” Solas says, his smile brighter than the dawn. “The wolves are happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my super old fic [Hearth Cakes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3977647), Scarlet doesn't immediately tell Solas that she loves him because she's waiting for the right time to say it. The problem is, she waits _way too much_ time in that fic, so I decided to change that. Really, I don't know what I was thinking when I wrote that fic (I probably wanted her to say it for the first time during the break-up, but that makes zero sense now considering how I have portrayed their relationship).
> 
> Hearth Cakes is really old and even though the image of Scarlet and Solas' relationship depicted in it is still good, my portrayal of them has evolved a lot over these past two years (TWO YEARS), so my canon of their relationship has changed. You can see this in my recent fics, which differ from Hearth Cakes, which was a sort of experiment without any logical ties.
> 
> I decided to write this new chapter of First Times for this reason: Scarlet actually tells Solas she loves him just a short time after getting together with him and they spend the following years (before the break-up ;_; ) being two adorable dorks and saying "Ar lath, ma vhenan" whenever they can, much to Cassandra and Dorian's joy and Sera's disgust. She never stops telling him that, because she knows he doesn't feel he deserves her love and attention at all ;_;


	8. Distance

After Crestwood, she feels numb and empty for months.

She can hardly sleep and all her energies seem to have left her, together with the countless tears she shed.

It’s different than losing someone because of death, but sometimes it feels even worse, because she can still see him, hear him, even talk to him.

He doesn’t call her “ _vhenan_ ” or “my heart” or any other sweet name he called her. His eyes are distant, his pose stiff, his words painfully polite and formal every time they encounter each other in the corridors or rooms of Skyhold. He keeps her at arm’s length, just like the night of their last date, after he...

After he broke up with her.

At first, it felt like a nightmare. For a moment, she was sure she was dreaming, that he would find her in the Fade, comfort and reassure her with kisses on the nose - he always loved doing that - and bring her in a better dream. Then they would wake up and make love.

But he never came. In fact, he left on his hart, leaving hers near the entrance of the glade.

She can’t remember almost anything of her trip back to Skyhold, only that wolves howled for the whole time, a mournful sound that filled the nights she had to spend outside or in the inns with a terrible sadness that seeped into her bones and never left.

She remembers thinking to catch up with Solas during the journey to understand, to talk to him, but her strength was already gone and she could just ride, staring blankly at the road in front of her, crying quietly for the whole time.

 

\- - - -

 

When she finally arrived at Skyhold, everyone already knew something was off because Solas had returned alone.

She found Dorian waiting for her at the gates, where Solas would usually stand those rare times she left the stronghold without him.

The Altus was walking back and forth, gnawing at his lower lip and staring at the bridge with concern.

When the guards announced her arrival and he spotted her hart in the distance, he impatiently waited for her, torturing his hands; he realized how bad things were when he was finally able to see her face, pale and wet with tears, her eyes red and puffy, her hands shaky.

“My friend.” Dorian gasped, helping her get down the animal. He almost didn’t dare to touch her, scared to break her, but his eyes widened when he saw the absence of _vallaslin_ on her cheeks.

“Are you…” He stopped, not sure how to continue. He kept looking at her with worry while she looked at the ground; he spoke again only after a long time, while everyone around them pretended not to listen or observe them.

“Are you alright? Maker, what happened?”

And right then, Scarlet broke. She burst into tears, sobs wrecking her frail body, and she wailed against Dorian’s chest as he hugged her tightly and shielded her from the guests, soldiers, and nobles’ shocked stares.

It was late and he knew she was exhausted, so he tried to bring her to her quarters, but as soon as he suggested that, she gasped and shrieked: “No! Not our room!”

And Dorian knew what that ‘our’ was referring to, but said nothing. He only got sadder and panicked more, but in the end he convinced her to go to his quarters.

He barked and snapped at the people watching them and whispering, but once they stepped into the main hall, everyone’s eyes were on them, their attention caught by Scarlet’s weeping that echoed in the high vaults.

Varric and Cassandra were sitting at his desk near the fireplace; they were discussing something in low tones, the dwarf looking as sad as Dorian, the Seeker furious and worried like never before.

They turned and got up immediately as they heard Scarlet’s sobs, but Dorian motioned them not to intervene and hurried to bring Scarlet away from all those curious people.

He glanced behind himself from above his shoulder, though, and told Cassandra and Varric to follow him with a pointed look.

The door to the rotunda was closed, but Scarlet’s cries reached that room too.

She cried for the whole night, sitting on Dorian’s bed and explaining through hiccups, sobs, and difficult breaths what had happened.

Cole appeared in the room after a few minutes and immediately sat at Scarlet’s other side, while Dorian sat at the other, holding her hand.

Varric was standing near the window, a hand on his chin and eyes lowered as he listened, while Cassandra had dragged a chair in front of Scarlet and sat on it to look at her and listen to her better.

“I… I don’t understand!” Scarlet repeated for the whole time at the end of her explanation. “I… I don’t know what happened, was it… was it my fault?” She turned to Cole, pleading him to answer her.

“Was it my fault?” she repeated, her eyes so swollen and bloodshot Dorian had to use healing magic on them twice to make them stop burning. “Cole, was it my fault? D-Did I scare him with all my ideas about marriage and… and children and…”

She couldn’t hold the tears much longer and started weeping again, her sobs and wails echoing in the large room and reaching the corridor.

Cole didn’t answer immediately, preferring to rub her back first, but then he whispered:

“It wasn’t your fault. He didn’t walk away because of you.”

“T-Then…” She gasped and it was like someone was choking her with hands of cold silverite. “Is there someone else?”

The mere idea was enough to make her feel like dying and she couldn’t even believe it, because it was… it was…

“Impossible.” Cassandra scoffed. “I don’t know what’s gotten into Solas’ head, but I _know_ it isn’t someone else, Inquisitor.”

“You guys are basically made for each other.” Varric added. He tried to smile to make her smile in return, but she was still looking like on the verge of fainting. “Shy, maybe this is all a huge misunderstanding.”

“Weren’t you listening?” Dorian snapped, glaring at him. “He left her! In a freaking glade, after a date that lasted days! After _two years and a half_ of kisses, of being the sweetest couple in Skyhold, of promises!”

He got up and began to walk around the room, shouting, without hiding his ire, while Scarlet kept crying quietly on the bed, hugged by Cole and letting Cassandra hold her hand.

“That idiot didn’t even bother tell her _why_! He just… he just…” Dorian snarled, understanding Scarlet’s frustration. It didn’t make sense, it was something nobody had ever expected to happen, not to her and Solas, _never_ to her and Solas.

Everyone in Skyhold was sure they were going to get married after the war. Everyone could see the love and joy in their eyes every time they talked with each other, every time they kissed and laughed.

“I…” Dorian started, then stopped: he saw in his mind the familiar scene of his two friends walking hand in hand behind him, sharing timid looks and smiles; he remembered Scarlet’s face as she told him about their first kiss and their first time together in bed; Solas’ bright smile every time she entered the rotunda and leapt into his arms; their laughter filling the camp or the main hall as they ate and held each other’s hands on the bench or under the table.

The Altus’ rage didn’t disappear completely, but it died down a bit, like embers still burning in the core of his heart. He stopped shouting, though, and slowly sat back at Scarlet’s side, frowning at the floor.

“I don’t understand.” he admitted sadly and Scarlet agreed with a sorrowful sob.

“He loves you.” Cole told her, bringing back the topic from before. “He didn’t leave you for someone else. You are his first and only love. He will always love you. But…”

The spirit boy sighed and shook his head and, for the first time in a long time, the others saw him being terribly confused, as if he wasn’t able to comprehend what he was sensing.

“But he feels he had to do it. Why? Things aren’t so complicated, he just has to speak! You would understand!”

Scarlet listened to him rapturously, realizing Cole held the key to reveal Solas’ secret and the reason of his sudden, destructive decision.

She clung to his shirt, hoping to hear more, but not daring to ask.

The spirit didn’t continue and Dorian decided to intervene, his fury coming alive again.

“Cole, I swear to the Maker, if you know why, then…”

“Can I go to him?” the spirit boy ignored him, asking Scarlet. She blinked, surprised by the sudden question, so he continued: “He is in his room, alone. His pain is as strong as yours and he needs help. Will you be alright without me for a while?”

Scarlet gasped and nodded frantically, taking his hand in hers.

“Yes, go to him!” she exclaimed and everyone’s heart broke as they saw how much she loved Solas and how much she still cared for him. “Go to him and help him, Cole!”

The spirit gave her a wide smile and a kiss on the forehead, his thanks for her, before disappearing with the now familiar sound everybody knew.

“This is ridiculous..” Dorian growled, glaring at the darkness outside his windows. “Cole said it isn’t even that complicated and who can understand that better than him? So what is even going through Solas’ head, why can’t he just simply talk to you and explain?”

“Maybe I really scared him.” Scarlet said softly, looking at her shaky hands on her lap. Tears fell on them, but she didn’t even feel them. Her eyes were burning again, but she didn’t feel that either.

“Maybe he thought things were going too fast or…” She shrugged, knowing her words didn’t make any sense. Solas would have talked to her in that case.

The rare times they needed to sort some things out, they always talked and fixed everything in less than a few minutes. It was that easy and beautiful and sweet for them.

Varric was right, it was like they were made for each other. And she had seen Solas’ face after their kiss, he was _happy_! Then something had changed and it was like he had started realizing something, but she had no idea what.

“Did Solas ever looked bothered by your conversations about marriage?” Cassandra asked, already knowing the answer. As she expected, Scarlet shook her head vehemently, her bloodshot golden eyes wide again.

“No! He was always timid, but also eager, like…” She stopped and when she spoked again, her voice was as soft as a feather: “Like he wanted that more than anything else in the world, but thought he couldn’t have it. He was often… melancholic.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Varric blurted out from his corner. “Chuckles can be even broodier than a broody friend of mine sometimes.”

“So we know for certain that he loves you and adores you immensely, that he was never scared by your ideas for the future and actually wanted them to come true.” the Seeker summarized with admirable practicality. She shared a look with Dorian and Varric, concluding: “Something must have clearly happened. Something he cannot control.”

“Like what?” the Altus exclaimed, appalled. “Maker’s balls, Cassandra, nothing happened while they were kissing! Scarlet herself said everything was perfect, that they were the happiest elves ever seen on Thedas!”

“Maybe he remembered something.” Varric intervened, scratching his beardless chin.

“Or he realized it.” Scarlet said as well, thinking hard, despite the terrible pain it caused her, about the last moments she and Solas had spent in the glade. 

“He remembered or realized _something_ so important and decisive that he had to _leave_ you after years of dating _just like that_?” Dorian pressed hard his fingertips on his temples, hissing. “My friend, I can justify you because you are clearly upset, but…”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense, Sparkler.” Varric replied, folding his arms. “Also, it’s not like Chuckles has never been… uh, odd? Can I say that?” He scratched his head this time, embarrassed by Scarlet’s confused, sad look and Cassandra’s perplexed one.

“I mean… he has always been a tiny bit suspicious! Incredible knowledge and wisdom gathered in the Fade, knows all sort of stuff and languages, but never reveals anything about himself or his past.” He glanced at Scarlet, an eyebrow raised. “Unless he did that with you, Shy.”

“Well, he…” She blushed and looked back at her hands, ashamed. “He didn’t like talking about that, that’s true. I always thought he had had a hard life, so I never asked him anything.”

“Maker!” Cassandra gasped, bringing a hand over her mouth. “Maybe his family is the problem!”

“And he has realized he couldn’t introduce Scarlet to his relatives only now?” Dorian looked about to burst, then he turned to the door and announced without hesitation: “That’s it, I am going to talk to him. I am sick of this.”

“Dorian, no!” Scarlet shouted, tears spilling from her eyes again. “Don’t go! I know this hurt him as much as it hurt me, I saw it on his face! He didn’t want to leave me!”

“But he did all the same and he didn’t even have the courage to tell you why!” the Altus retorted, opening the door and turning to look at her with burning eyes. “I _know_ he is suffering as much as you are, so it is better to fix this as soon as possible, don’t you agree?”

“This will hardly help, you fool!” Cassandra snapped, getting up from her chair to run to him. “She is the one who must talk to him!”

“She isn’t in the conditions to do anything right now!” Dorian angrily replied, glancing at Scarlet with boiling worry. “At least I will get some first words out of him tonight!”

And with that he left, followed by an equally angry Cassandra.

Scarlet and Varric stayed alone in the Altus’ room and she started crying again; Varric sat on the chair previously occupied by Cassandra and took her hand, patting it and telling her of the time he had to comfort Hawke after Fenris broke up with her.

“But you know what?” he said, grinning as Scarlet looked at him through the few tears she had left in her body. “They got back together! He overcame his fears and _bam_ , they were joined by the hips again, two lovebirds making Kirkwall a less shitty place.”

She smiled at that and sniffled, trying to push back the snot and not be a mess; she found Dorian’s handkerchief on the bed that he had left there for her and used that.

Varric added, putting all the reassurance and warmth he could into his voice: “You’re right, Inquisitor. He didn’t want to leave you, just like Fenris didn’t want to leave Hawke. You’re gonna fix this and get back together before the sun rise tomorrow, trust me.”

Her smile broadened and she nodded, hope growing in her heart.

Meanwhile, Dorian and Cassandra were heading to Solas’ room. The two of them were still arguing, but they had considerably lowered their voices to avoid waking everyone up and attract too much unwanted attention.

The last thing Scarlet and Solas needed was a public.

“ _Kaffas_!” Dorian hissed, smacking Cassandra’s hand away. “Let me do this, Cassandra, it’s better for everyone, trust me!”

“I know you are angry! I am angry too! Do you think I don’t want to go to Solas and shake him until he has finally explained himself?”

Dorian managed to smirk at that.

“I bet you would make him talk after a few minutes. Look at what you did with Varric.”

“I know I would do a great work.” Cassandra smirked as well. “The dwarf would always tell me how scary I was while I questioned him.”

Then she remembered where they were and what they were doing and spluttered: “But… But this is not right! This is their business, Dorian, not ours, and we…”

“Just let me try, just once! I know he is hurting, I just want him to stop being an ass!”

Dorian freed himself from Cassandra’s grip and reached Solas’ door, ready to knock on it.

Right then, they heard it. They couldn’t do it before because of their argument, but now the noise was near and clear enough to be heard.

A loud wail, a soul-tearing sound that shook them to their bones and chilled their blood.

Solas’ wail turned into a deep sob that ended in a series of choked hiccups, then his cries continued.

It was all so unfamiliar and uncharacteristic that Dorian and Cassandra had to check to make sure that was really his room.

They stayed in front of the door only for a brief time. They silently went back to the Altus’ room without uttering a word, but there were a profound sorrow and something akin to a sense of loss on their faces.

“It was not supposed to go like this.” Dorian murmured a few meters away from the door of his room. “They were supposed to survive this war, marry, be happy and have a lot of kids. Many sweet brats running around and calling me ‘uncle’.”

“I know.” Cassandra replied with a whisper, her eyes staring at the dark corridor ahead, not really focused on anything. “It doesn’t feel right.”

“But _you_ were right.” Dorian said, looking at her, admitting his mistake. “We cannot fix this for them. It is clear Solas didn’t leave her for fun or because he doesn’t love her anymore. I guess we will just have to… to…”

“Be there for them.” the Seeker concluded for him. The two of them exchanged a long, sad look before nodding and opening the door.

Scarlet was still crying - they didn’t know with what strength left -, but Varric had convinced her to lie down on the bed for a little. He was patting her hand, but didn’t really know what else to say.

As soon as the door opened, Scarlet sat up, faster than lightning, and stared at Dorian with big, burning eyes. He sighed and went to sit at her side again, using his healing magic a third time to ease the pain.

“W-What did he say?” she finally asked, torturing her poor hands, twisting and twirling her fingers to find some inner comfort.

“We… didn’t enter.” Dorian admitted, moving away his fingertips from her eyes. She reopened them immediately, surprise and relief shining in them, soon replaced by grief when Dorian added softly: “He was crying a lot. We decided it was better not ask him anything for today.”

Scarlet burst into tears again, but they managed to calm her down sooner than before and in the end they convinced her to slip under the covers and get some sleep.

“Talk to him tomorrow. Things will be easier then.” Dorian said while setting a bedroll on the floor.

Scarlet nodded at him from under the covers partially hiding her face. Her eyes were sadder than ever; he had never seen her look so empty and heartsick before, but still hope shined in her, he could see it.

Cassandra affectionately rubbed her arm and Varric smiled at her before wishing her and Dorian a goodnight and leaving the room; she asked the Altus if he wanted the bed - “I can sleep in the bedroll, Dorian.” -, but he hushed her with a fond remark and urged her to fall asleep.

“Do you think he will visit me in the Fade?” she asked timidly, hoping with all her young, kind heart, and Dorian felt like dying.

“He better do that.” he replied, slipping under the blanket of his bedroll and raising his arm to grab her hand on the edge of the mattress. “Now sleep. Let me know if you need anything, alright?”

She sniffled and nodded, then said softly: “Thank you, Dorian.”

“Hush.” he said warmly, tugging at her hand, feeling like crying. “Sleep and find him in the Fade.”

And she tried, oh she tried, but not even the Anchor helped her. All she saw was an endless forest and all she heard was the sorrowful, despaired howling of wolves.

She couldn’t see them, but she felt their presence nearby, like shadows moving through the trees and bushes. But she wasn’t scared, she felt only their same sadness.

She cried with them as they howled and whined and she curled up on the cold ground and dead leaves; she didn’t see one of the wolves watch her with infinite grief and longing, she didn’t see his familiar blue eyes, but she heard his howls better than the others’ and felt, for a moment, his hot breath and soft fur near her face, soft like a caress.

When she woke up the next day, she cried again, because for the first time in years Solas hadn’t visited her in the Fade, or so she thought.

 

\- - - -

 

Once she left Dorian’s room, she felt like she was living in a nightmare. She actually believed for a moment that she was indeed trapped in the Fade by the same demon that had served Corypheus, but she realized soon enough that she was not dreaming and that this was all very real.

The most obtuse nobles had mistaken her tears and Solas’ for tears of joy and excitement and thought they were getting ready for marriage. She heard them talk about a ceremony, dresses, and happiness for the future and felt like someone had stabbed her with an enchanted knife. 

The people who actually knew her and Solas and had witnessed their love since the first days knew something was very wrong and left her alone, sending her sympathetic glances from afar and trying to help her as best as they could.

Josephine couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw her without _vallaslin_ , but accepted Scarlet’s brief answer and didn’t ask more, offering her a box of her favorite candies and trying to distract her with small talks and gossips.

Cullen never even addressed the subject, but he seemed rather embarrassed and wasn’t quite able to ignore her swollen eyes and the dark circles underneath them.

Leliana acted professionally, but not coldly; she didn’t say anything about the events of the previous night, but spoke with soft tones and gentle smiles about their tasks for the day. Then she reassured Scarlet that she could take some rest if she wanted, that she and the other Advisors would take care of the most difficult things.

“Of course we will leave you something to do, Inquisitor.” she added before Scarlet could protest. Her smile became even warmer, kinder. “Work is always a good distraction. I know it, believe me.”

Scarlet gratefully nodded, accepting her help given in a so particular, yet effective way, and found the strength and courage to finally go to her quarters.

She had seen her reflection in the pond of the glade after Solas had left, but the shock of their break-up had been so great, she hadn’t paid much attention to it.

Now, for the first time, she was able to see her face without those marks and when she did, by lifting a small pocket mirror, she didn’t react.

She didn’t really care for the _vallaslin_ : in fact, she was glad they were gone. She knew Solas had told her the truth and knowing that she had been wearing slave markings for most of her life filled her with disgust.

After so many years, she could see all her freckles again. She looked even younger, a child, and she started wondering again, for the umpteenth time since the break-up, if that was the cause of Solas’ sudden change of mind.

But that, like all the other reasons she had tried to list, didn’t make sense.

Was it because she had accepted to have the _vallaslin_ removed? But he had been so happy, so proud, she had seen it on his face!

Had he realized only then that she was indeed much younger than him when he had seen her bare face? Why then, why not at the start of their relationship? It was no mystery that there was an age gap between them, but that had never bothered them, because it wasn’t even _that_ big and she was an adult, mature woman anyway and they even joked about it many times and… and…

New tears fell on the mirror and Scarlet sat on the couch, lips trembling.

She felt small and frail like a child, embarrassed. What was she going to say to her clan, to her parents? How could she justify the absence of _vallaslin_ to them?

She couldn’t reveal them the truth, not yet, not without evidences. She didn’t need them because she trusted - and _loved_ \- Solas, but she knew her Keeper would want all the proofs in the world to believe such claims.

Furthermore, they would want to know why Solas had left her and she didn’t have an answer for that.

She let her hair fall around her face and stayed like that, looking at her pale, gaunt face through a thick veil of tears.

When she raised her head again, she suddenly realized the room was filled with Solas’ personal belongings and clothes.

They were everywhere, together with hers; silent reminders of the past years they had spent together, details that spoke of a domestic life, similar to the one she had dreamed to spent with him once the war was over.

She saw one of his shirts on the chair of her desk. She had sewed it for him, only one of the many she had made. She saw the many presents he had given her too, paintings and gloves, a new shawl for the night, books and precious, colored sewing threads.

She saw his bag near the bookcase, his staff resting against the wall next to one of the balcony doors, his books and notes next to hers, the shape his body and head had left on the mattress and pillow.

She felt a burning wave of fire overwhelm her and then she was struggling for breath, clutching her chest with a hand and clawing at the leather of the couch with the other.

It didn’t last much, but when it ended, she was even weaker than before and had to lie down on the couch, her eyes swelling with tears again.

She felt something under her cheek and slowly raised her head. It was one of Solas’ sweaters and his scent made her head go dizzy.

She took it and stared at it, thinking about all the rest of his stuff scattered in every nook and corner of her- _their_ room, it was still _their_ room.

He would surely want it all back. He was probably going to ask all of it back and she…

She was so in love, so stupid, and so _selfish_ she couldn’t bear the thought of doing that. She wanted to at least have a piece of him to remember all the beautiful, perfect moments they had spent together.

Even the idea of falling asleep on that bed without him made her feel ill, on the verge of death.

She brought Solas’ sweater to her face, inhaled his scent, and cried some more, before hiding it under the mattress.

Then she went to him, hoping to receive some explanation, _praying_ he would tell her everything and change his mind.

He was in the rotunda, of course. Varric and Cassandra, sitting by the fireplace in the hall again, stared at her with wide eyes as she approached the closed door.

They didn’t dare say anything, but she heard them hold their breath as she opened the door and walked into the rotunda.

Then her heart, drumming in her ears, was all she could hear for a time.

Solas was hunched over his desk and it was like a giant was sitting on his shoulders.

She couldn’t see his face, his back was turned to the door, but something felt different, it was not like the other times.

He turned slowly when he heard her approach and she had to stop; her legs were trembling too much and she feared the arrival of another panic attack.

His cold, distant expression nearly made her cry there on the spot. Gone was the warmth he would always greet her with, gone was his smile, gone his touch and playful whispers in her ear as they hugged and kissed.

But she could see still see his love, badly hidden under layers of neutrality and formality.

He didn’t look surprised to see her there, but he also didn’t show any emotions at all; he straightened his back, took a quick breath, and said:

“Inquisitor. How may I help you prepare for our final battle?”

He also _spoke_ quickly, just like both did when they were nervous or embarrassed. No matter how well Solas hid his feelings, she knew him too well.

Still, his formal tone was painful all the same and Scarlet had to gather all her strengths to answer without babbling. Before she did that, though, she saw his hands. They were shaking.

“I’d like to discuss what happened before, Solas.”

“I’m afraid that wouldn’t be appropriate at this time. We must focus on what truly matters.”

He didn’t really think that, she knew that, she could see it. He was lying to himself and to her, but _why_? Why couldn’t he explain what was wrong?

So she tried to ask that.

“It would help me if you could explain why.”

He swallowed, but didn’t miss a beat.

“The answers would only lead to more questions, an emotional entanglement that would benefit neither of us.”

She knew he saw the sadness and confusion in her eyes, because he had to take another breath to be able to continue, as if he had been burned.

“Harden your heart to a cutting edge, and put that pain to good use against Corypheus.” He hesitated, then added, his jaw locked tight, his lips set into a firm line before speaking:

“The blame is mine, not yours. It was irresponsible and selfish of me. Let that be enough.”

She felt tears prickle her eyes and she looked down for a moment, not wanting to cry in front of him and embarrass him, put him in a difficult situation.

Once she was sure she could look at him without bursting into tears, she raised her head again and asked softly, timidly:

“Will you talk to me when we are finished with Corypheus?”

They always talked. They always fixed things together. They could do it this time too.

No matter what had happened, she was sure they could win this too. She didn’t care what was the reason that had caused Solas to break up with her so suddenly; even if it was the worst thing in the world, she would understand and talk to him.

She just needed to know, to understand.

“If we are still alive afterward, then I promise you, everything will be made clear.” Solas replied and she saw resignation and sorrow flash over his pale face for a moment.

The dark circles under his eyes were even bigger than hers and his eyes were bloodshot, the lines and wrinkles around them that she so loved deeper than ever, his lips white.

She couldn’t hold her tears back anymore and they ran freely across her cheeks. She nodded with a sad smile and believed him. He had promised: they were going to talk soon and everything was going to be fine.

She swore to protect him and their friends and herself too so that they could see the dawn together and fix this - fix this and be happy again.

Solas turned even paler upon seeing her cry. He let out a shaky breath, shaky like his hands, and said:

“Let me know if I can be of any more help in planning our final fight.”

He took a step back, indicating the end of their conversation, and before he turned to his desk again, he looked at her with a great, unhidden sadness, tears shining in his eyes.

 

He went to her that night.

When he knocked on the door, she was expecting Dorian or one of her other friends; so she opened the door without even looking, but when she recognized the beige sweater and torn pants, she turned white.

Hope blossomed in her heart and it shined on her face, a blinding light illuminating her tired eyes.

But Solas didn’t smile and he looked even more haggard and miserable than before.

“Inquisitor.” he said and Scarlet’s face fell. “Forgive me for bothering you at this hour. I am here to retrieve my belongings.”

“Yes. Of course.” she murmured, crestfallen, before walking up the stairs, followed by him, a huge lump of tears pressing against her throat and hurting her jaw.

She went to stand near the couch while he stepped into the room; he looked around without uttering a word, his mouth set into a straight line like before, then he said, his voice hoarse, choked up: “With your permission, then.”

He had brought a rather large bag: he put everything that belonged to him there and Scarlet had to help him several times, because he couldn’t remember where a shirt or a pair of pants were, just like it would always happen when they were still together.

“I… cannot find a sweater.” he said in the end, once he had taken everything. His travel bag was on his back and he held his staff in one hand and the bag he had brought in the other.

“I’ll let you know if I find it.” Scarlet replied softly, but she blushed and had to look away. Solas stayed quiet for a short moment, before saying, his tone almost tender: “Thank you.”

Her head snapped up, but she didn’t make it in time to see his face as he said that: he was already walking fast down the stairs and left with a hurried “Goodnight, Inquisitor.”

“Goodnight.” she whispered in the empty room, feeling empty herself.

But later, as she tried not to cry too much and too loud while she prepared to sleep in the big, cold bed, she noticed that her yellow shawl was missing.

No matter how much she searched for it, she couldn’t find it and hope, once again, floated in her heart like a warm orb of light.

 

\- - - -

 

Weeks have passed since then and the final battle is approaching.

She still feels horrible, like one of those spirits in the Fade trapped in the living world that she saw in the humid caves of Crestwood.

She eats little, almost nothing, and focuses entirely on her job. Her friends support her in any way they can, in their own way, and she is glad to see they aren’t angry with Solas and don’t treat him badly.

On the contrary, they know he feels terrible too and she often witnesses how Varric, Dorian, Bull and the others try to comfort him too.

The dwarf often invites him for a round of Wicked Grace - “Only you and me, Chuckles!” - and even though Solas always refuses, Varric never ceases to ask him.

She once saw Dorian talk with him in soft tones and even though Solas sent him away almost immediately, the Altus didn’t look offended or angry.

“He was crying again. When I went down to ask him if he was alright, he rubbed his eyes and told me he was fine. Such a bad liar.” she heard him say to Varric and since then Dorian has always greeted Solas and reminded him he is there, if he needs to talk.

Bull invites him for rounds of chess and Scarlet knows he offered him his help multiple times as well.

“Never saw him so sad before.” Bull apparently said after their first game together. He looked up from his mug of ale and sighed, rubbing his chin. “Fuck. I wanted them to have lots of babies too. I even wrote down the names.”

Vivienne and Sera are the ones who never even attempted to treat Solas well, but at least Sera isn’t pestering him now, despite her rage.

“Just doing it for your sake, Quizzy!” she told Scarlet after she thanked her for being so kind. “That idiot deserves a kick in the balls!”

“He does not.” Scarlet replied with a smile, sadness and hope coexisting on her face and in her heart like a weird combination of colors on a canvas. Sera groaned, rolled her eyes, but to this day she still hasn’t said anything bad to Solas.

Vivienne simply ignores him, but Scarlet heard that she was _furious_ after hearing the news of their break-up. The older woman invites her almost every day for tea and she is kinder than usual, complimenting her hair or outfit with sincere, even funny comments.

Blackwall is one of those that most try to help Solas. Scarlet knows they spend time together in the stable, working on the wooden toys for the children of Skyhold; one day, she accidentally eavesdropped on them.

“You know I’m here if you need to talk, right, my friend?” Blackwall said and Solas looked genuinely surprised.

“Yes.” he said in the end, even attempting to smile, even if in vain. “Thank you.”

This distance between them is nearly making her lose her mind and Solas is suffering just like she is; every day, she can see how much his hands shake or how little sleep he gets at night, how miserable and anguished he is.

She misses him so much there are no words to describe it and the worst thing is that she knows - _she knows_ \- he misses her too and never wanted to do this.

So why?

Cole brings it up one day, as they walk in the Emerald Graves to collect elfroot and more useful herbs. She lets him insist and he says something strange, something about her being real, about a mirror, but it’s all so sudden and it hurts so much that she can’t remember it well.

In the end, Solas stops Cole from entering his mind somehow and she is left with even more questions than before, but hope, once again, burns in her, alive, and she knows that he will explain everything to her someday.

And that day, this distance between them will disappear and they will be together again, this time forever. She knows this and she also hopes that Solas, whatever problem is haunting him, is able to hope, to _know_ this too.

Finally, the day of the final battle comes. Scarlet gets up, pressing Solas’ sweater against her chest, ready to discuss with her Advisors the best way to find and face Corypheus.

For the first time in months, the Anchor flares up and scorches her hand, but she presses her palm on Solas’ sweater and the pain seems to pass.

Downstairs, in his small room, Solas opens his eyes after a night spent in the Fade watching Scarlet from afar.

He presses her yellow shawl to his face and dreads the coming hours, not only because they might die, but also because she will discover the truth, if they survive.

“She would understand.” Cole has told him many times in the past, painful, empty, nightmarish weeks.

And Solas prays that is true with all his love-filled heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter DESTROYED me. My heart is broken and my mind isn't the same anymore. RELIVING THE EXPERIENCE OF THIS BREAK-UP IS HORRIBLE ;_;
> 
> It was super hard for Scarlet and Solas: they were the most Domestic, Sweet, Old Married couple in all Thedas, so this was a complete nightmare for them. Those two years of additional distance were even worse. Solas, pls, we just want you to be happy ;_;
> 
> That's why Scarlet felt so bad and had so many panic attacks and shed so many tears. Solas is her first and only love and the break-up was so sudden and unexpected, it felt so surreal, that she nearly lost her mind for a time. Weekes also mentioned that Solas cried a lot too, so yeah. I can totally see him crying and weeping in his room or in private, overwhelmed by pain, longing, and guilt.
> 
> I never liked the idea of the other companions treating Solas badly; on the contrary, I like to imagine they tried to help and comfort him too, without blaming him.
> 
> After this, I will need many sessions of fluff to recover. I will have to jump into a rainbow, eat cotton candy for a month, and write a lot of Solavellan family and Solavellan fluff to feel better.


	9. Birthday (Scarlet)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request from Anon on Tumblr! They wanted to see Scarlet's birthday among her companions, so I decided to turn it into a new chapter of First Times. 
> 
> This will be divided into two parts, one for Scarlet and one for Solas.

She celebrates her first birthday in the Inquisition with all her friends.

It’s like being back in her clan, but one of the major differences is that there are _many_ , even _too many,_ presents for her and she is in the spotlight, everyone’s attention focused on her only.

In her clan, birthdays were celebrated in a different way: the presents were few and useful and the individual wasn’t more important than the group, not even for a day. There were simply not enough resources to make a gift for every member of the clan who got one year older.

Only parents and relatives were the ones who gave more than one tangible present, while the others sang or made a bigger portion of food for the one who was celebrated.

She still holds dear the beautiful belt her mother made for her and she still remembers as if it was yesterday the day of her twelfth birthday, when her father first took her to a human village to trade food.

Today she both feels overwhelmed and thrilled by the quantity of gifts and by the sweets and cakes that Cabot and the cooks made for her, an explicit request of her Advisors, the first ones to find out the date of her birthday and reveal it to all her friends and Solas.

They are celebrating in the empty main hall; it’s late and all their guests are asleep, so she doesn’t risk to let some pompous Orlesian noble know when she was born and have the news spread all over Thedas, causing strangers to come to Skyhold only to compliment her and buy her favor.

Her friends’ company is more than enough and she doesn’t need anything else to be happy.

Especially with Solas at her side, smiling and laughing with her.

The party is almost over and they have finished eating several of the little cakes and light dishes prepared in advance. Bull and Sera are drunk, singing off-key the theme of the Chargers, while Cassandra and Vivienne are discussing in hushed tones the characteristics a good romance novel must have.

But everyone is thinking about Scarlet, because she is the “birthday girl” as Varric defined her, and Cole even put a flower crown on her head and kissed her forehead.

She is still somewhat shocked by the suddenness of it all: she was literally dragged down to the main hall from her quarters by an enthusiastic Dorian and at first she couldn’t understand why Solas was chuckling behind her, following them with an amused, roguish smile.

“How long have you been preparing this surprise?” she asked him at the start of their sweet dinner, her hair still disheveled after their making out session in their bedroom before Dorian came to fetch her.

“A week, more or less.” he answered, munching the icing of his slice of cake with gusto. Unable to not share even on the day of her birthday, she rolled the strawberries on her plate onto his and watched his face lighten up like the countless candles on the table.

Now she is sitting on his lap, admiring the lacquered box Vivienne got for her and putting the wooden bracelets and hairpins Blackwall carved in it; Solas’ hands are on the small of her back and her thigh and his lips have found the soft spot on her neck that makes her giggle and blush whenever he kisses it.

His present is upstairs, in their room, he told her. She understands why he’d prefer to give it to her in private, but the others like to play and joke and they still haven’t dropped the topic.

“What, was it too _big_ to give it to her here?” Bull said, smacking his lips while Sera cackled at his side. 

“It is something of a more personal nature and I’d like her to be the only one to see it.” Solas flatly replied, before realizing with horror the implications of his words.

Bull and Sera are still laughing about that and Solas’ ears are still adorably pink. Although that might be caused by Scarlet’s presence on his legs.

She doesn’t care whether he found something for her or not; as long as they are together, she is the happiest woman in the world. 

But the timid, child-like part of her can’t help but wonder what he chose for her birthday and she patiently waits, her heart thrumming hard in her chest.

“ _Vhenan_.” Solas mumbles, eyes half-closed. “Why don’t we retreat to our quarters?”

“Retreat?” she chuckles, neatly folding the lovely dress Josephine, Leliana, and Cullen ordered for her. “Are we losing a battle, _ma sa’lath_?”

The others certainly lost the one against alcohol. Even Vivienne looks rather tipsy and Cullen and Varric are snoring loudly, bended over the table. Cole is listening to Dorian, enjoying his slurred tales of past youth, and Blackwall is silently eating another piece of cake, a glass of mead ready in the other hand.

“Yes.” Solas promptly replies, opening fully his eyes to stare at her with a serious, almost solemn face. “I am losing the one against myself.” He whines softly and adds a bit petulantly, like a child: “I want to make love to you, _vhenan_.”

Scarlet giggles, knowing he isn’t behaving like that because of the drinks. He actually drank very little, except for a few sips of ale and mead, and she did the same, since she can’t hold alcohol very well. 

“It’s quite late. I think we can call it a night and go to sleep.” She feels his huff more than hear it against her neck and giggles again. “ _Ir abelas_. I meant ‘go to make love until dawn’.”

“Much better.” He smiles happily at her and awe comes to join love in his grey-blue eyes. “Twenty-two years old. The waking world and the Fade alike sing around you, _vhenan_.”

She looks down at the box, then at his hand on her thigh. Broad and calloused, his fingers long and elegant, with small wrinkles and faint veins running along the pale, thin skin.

She makes a timid sound and rests her hand upon his, her blush spreading to her neck. She raises her eyes to Solas and sees that he’s still smiling. There is some red icing on the corner of his mouth and she leans in to lick it away, making a pleasant shudder run through him.

“Such a wondrous person you are.” he murmurs, cupping her cheek. The love in his eyes increases even more and she can’t look away. “Just having you here on my legs is a blessing.”

“Sweet talker.” She rests her head on his shoulder, looking at him with a warm smile. “You know I’m the lucky one here.”

“Nonsense.” He brushes his lips against her nose and sighs, looking at her through his long eyelashes. “There is hardly anything lucky in being with me.”

“Don’t be so grumpy the day of my birthday!” she laughs, chasing his slight frown away with a kiss. “Let me see your smile. Good, like this.”

They stare at each other for a long while, not even moving to look at their friends even when they make some loud noise. Then she asks with an equally big smile: “Shall we go?” 

Solas grins and helps her get up and collect all her presents.

“I never received so many gifts for my birthday before.” she says softly, torn between elation and a weird shame caused by a life spent sharing everything with everyone. 

It feels wrong to be celebrated so much and she wonders with panic what the Keeper would say if she knew about the new, non-Dalish way she spent her birthday today.

She doesn’t see Solas’ sad expression after hearing her words, but fortunately it goes away as soon as she turns to him with a blinding smile.

“We could read the book Varric gave me together!”

“Careful, Shy.” the dwarf mumbles from his spot, still half-asleep. “It’s full of high-quality smut.”

“Even better!” Bull exclaims loudly, making everyone groan in pain. He shoots Scarlet and Solas a smug grin from above the brim of his mug. “You guys need to try new positions, I bet.”

“Let’s go, _vhenan_.” Solas firmly says, glaring at the cackling Qunari and resting his hands on Scarlet’s waist. “I fear our companions indulged too much in the alluring taste of ale.”

But when Scarlet thanks them all for the wonderful gifts and lovely night, they suddenly wake up and spring up, excitement and affection chasing away the bleariness from their eyes.

She thanks them again, unable to express her joy and gratefulness with decent words, but they are clear and well-visible in her eyes and she even sheds some tears, feeling content in that warm cocoon of love and friendship.

It’s only half an hour later that she and Solas are able to go back to their room, carrying the gifts and trying not to make love right on the stairs.

But once they are in their familiar, warm quarters and all the gifts are carefully placed on the couch, Solas regains his composure for a moment to go retrieve his own gift.

He hid it inside the drawer where he keeps his clothes and Scarlet can’t help but feel giddy with excitement and trepidation as he walks over to her, holding the package in his hands.

It’s wrapped in brown paper tied with a string and she timidly takes it and sits on the bed to better rest it on her legs.

“May I?” she asks, looking up at Solas who is standing next to her, hands clasped behind his back.

“By all means.” he smiles and she happily unties the string, delicately unfolds the paper - she did the same with the other gifts, with the intention of keeping the wrapping, a beautiful memory of this day - and then gasps.

It’s a wooden box and it looks _expensive_. There is a small golden plate in a corner of it, but the words written on it are unknown to her. She thinks it’s Antivan and that increases her surprise tenfold.

She looks at Solas again, at loss for words, and he nods at the box, prompting her to open it. There is an elegant clasp on one side of it and she flicks it open, raising the cover with great care.

And then she gasps again, eyes wide.

There are countless spools of colored threads in the box, divided into different shades of color and textures. There are needles of every shape, length, and thickness, thimbles and measuring tapes, pocket mirrors and paper to draw models of clothes, even patches of precious cloth.

The quality of it all is extremely high and that fact that it’s Antivan says a lot about the care that went into this sewing collection and its price.

“Solas, this is…” She shakes her head and her eyes well up with tears again. “This is too much.”

“It is not. It’s nothing compared to what you truly deserve.” He sits at her side and cradles her face in his hands, saying with an intensity that makes her cry even more: “You deserve all the world, _vhenan_ , and even more.” 

He gets sad for a moment and she recognizes that melancholy that often accompanies him in the most various of moments. “You deserve an eternity of bliss.”

She laughs, the sound wet, a mix between a giggle and a sob, and leans in until her lips touch his.

“If you are worried about the source of that box, don’t worry.” he adds, his melancholy disappearing, replaced by a smug smirk. He is trying to add levity into the conversation and see her smile again. “I stole it from a very wealthy Antivan prince who will have no problems in acquiring another one.”

She laughs again, knowing he’s joking, and she is about to ask him how much he really paid for it, but then she changes her mind, not wanting to embarrass him. 

She just hopes he didn’t spend all his money on this. But even if that’s the case, she will take care of all his needs, even those he doesn’t openly talk about, but tries to hide to avoid worrying her.

“Is it alright for me to use it then?” she asks shyly, not even daring to touch the precious, shiny threads. Solas senses her difficulty and gently takes her hand, resting them upon the spools and soft cloths.

“It is _yours_ , my love.” he reassures her, his voice a kind whisper caressing her face, his smile loving and tender like his caresses. “It belongs to you and you can use it in any way you want, whenever you like.”

She finally smiles and turns at him again; he passes his thumbs over her long, wet eyelashes to dry the tears there, then kisses her again.

“Thank you, _ma sa’lath_.” she says, cuddling against his side. She decides her first work with this set will be a new shirt for him. 

“Happy birthday, _vhenan_.” he murmurs, kissing her red hair, and he prays with all his fast-beating heart to share that eternity of bliss with her.


	10. Birthday (Solas)

Just a few days after her own, Scarlet realizes she doesn’t know when Solas’ birthday is.

He just told her he was born in a distant village in the north. Anything else is unknown: no date, no year, no season.

She doesn’t even know exactly how old he is, although he vaguely mentioned that once, mumbling something about being forty-something before blushing and asking her if it bothered her.

Of course it doesn’t, but she understands only now that such a vague answer wasn’t born out of shame and shyness, but something else entirely. He looked and sounded almost _unsure_.

This realization hits her while she is reading the information about the new recruits Josephine and Cullen sent her. She makes a mental note to introduce herself to them later - she knows they all probably are in the barracks, making themselves comfortable in their new home -, then puts the list away and proceeds with her next task, a series of treaties and agreements she must write without crying and send to some Fereldan landlords.

But the mystery of Solas’ birthday remains in the back of her mind, a nagging thought that gives her no peace. It haunts her until lunch, when it’s finally time to get up from her desk and join the others in the main hall.

Solas is there as well and he lightens up when he spots her in the distance. This day has been hectic for everyone and she can see ink and little cuts caused by paper on his fingers, clear sign that he spent the whole morning writing and reading.

She beams at him from afar and walks fast to him, almost running, although she slows down at the end to avoid crashing against him.

“ _Vhenan_!”

She kisses him even before he can speak and pulls away with a smile, ignoring Sera’s puking noises and Bull’s whistle.

“Hello, _vhenan_.” Solas says with a smile, cheeks getting red. He is holding her hands, but frowns and pulls them away when he notices the ink on his fingers.

“ _Fenedhis_.” he mumbles, his blush getting redder, then he hurries to apologize: “I am sorry, I didn’t…”

“Don’t worry.” she giggles, before taking out a clean handkerchief from her pocket. “Here, wet this, please.”

He does so with a water spell and she takes his hands, cleaning each of his fingers while asking him how his day went. His answers are pronounced softly, almost distractedly, because he is watching intently the way she is cleaning his hands and the gesture is nearly making him emotional.

Scarlet blushes too and she is about to check his face too - she often found ink behind his ear or on his nape -, when Blackwall snorts and comments: “You look like an old married couple.”

Sera’s puking sounds increase and Scarlet gets so flustered she flees to her chair, although she doesn’t hide her smile and moves her hand on top of Solas as soon as he sits next to her.

The meal proceeds like they usually do every day: Dorian complains about books he cannot find, but he also compliments the patience of the elven mage who tidies up the library every day; Sera complains about Cole visiting her whenever he senses she has trouble sleeping and threatens Solas with a butter knife when he offers her herbs and spells to help her rest better; Varric grimaces at the sight of snails that Vivienne ordered from the cooks, but gratefully accepts her wine and even promises her to make her try the famous beer of the Hanged Man.

Today Scarlet pays less attention to it all. She usually engages in long conversations with her friends, listening to their stories, experiences, comments with great interest, but today she is distracted and part of her mind reminds her that she should check the papers she wrote before lunch, because they are probably full of mistakes and typos due to her distraction.

Not even food is able to stop her from staring at the void or play absentmindedly with the cutlery. She thinks and thinks, remembering all the small details about his life that Solas ever blurted out, but they aren’t many, so she is always repeating the same things in her head all over again.

Distant village to the north. Forty-something years old. Little to do in his village when he was young. How did he celebrate his birthdays? Did he have a family? What did his parents do?

 _‘Do they still live?’_ she wonders, blushing again when she starts imagining her meeting with her parents-in-law. She likes to think that Solas’ father is bald like him, but with dark eyes, while his mother has his same hair - a light brown or reddish, judging by his eyebrows - and same eyes.

She is so lost in her thoughts that she feels Solas’ lips only a few seconds after he has pressed them on her cheek.

“ _Ma vhenan_.” he whispers and his hand isn’t under hers anymore, but on her thigh instead. “What are you thinking about?”

“Umh…” she babbles, blushing, too embarrassed to reveal to him what she was fantasizing about, but he knows her well and understands it was about him.

He can’t imagine the _exact_ nature of her fantasies, though, so he mistakes her red cheeks and babbling for something else.

“Ah, I see.” he smirks and she will never understand how he manages to win over his own shyness and be so smooth. His cheeks are red like hers, but his expression is smug and she knows he wants to play.

“Perhaps we should take a break and go relax in our rooms, once we are finished here.” he suggests, still whispering in her ear, and Scarlet can just stare at him, melting, and nod quickly with a huge smile.

That sounds like a wonderful idea.

But despite the trepidation burning in her heart and body and the afternoon of joy and pleasure that awaits them in each other’s arms, the problem concerning Solas’ birthday still stubbornly remains stuck in the back of her mind.

What if it already passed? What kind of horrible girlfriend is she? The fact that she doesn’t know the date is already a terrible thing!

So she doesn’t immediately follow Solas to their rooms once their meal is over. She said she has some things to discuss with Josephine and Leliana and asks him to precede her in the meantime.

“If you want, I can wait for you…”

“No!”

He blinks, surprised by her sudden outburst, and she curses herself before stammering, smiling too widely and speaking too fast like she always does when she is nervous or hiding something:

“It’s a silly thing, _vhenan_ , and it will take only a few minutes. Go and… and prepare the bed!”

Solas’ surprise turns into surprised amusement.

“… Prepare the bed?” he repeats, arching an eyebrow, and Scarlet groans, hides her face behind her hands for a moment, and then exclaims, turning beetle red: “You know what I mean!”

“I think I do.” Solas’ smile grows and he gives her a sweet kiss before heading to the stairs. He looks back one last time to wave at her and she waves back at him, before rushing to Josephine’s office to finally uncover that mystery.

She feels terrible, ashamed, _disgusting_ even just to ask, but she has to and even if Josephine’s shocked face doesn’t exactly help, she feels relieved and even hopeful once the words leave her mouth.

“If _I_ know Solas’ birth date?” The Ambassador brings a hand to her cheek. “Maker, Inquisitor, don’t tell me you don’t know!”

Scarlet looks down at her boots - she will never get used to them - and doesn’t answer, preferring to let the other woman come to her conclusions and speak. Josephine senses her deep embarrassment and mortification and immediately goes back to her kind, professional self.

“I see. He doesn’t like talking much about himself, does he?”

“I… I guess not, but I thought he might have told you and Leliana something more about this.” Scarlet wrings her hands, watching expectantly as Josephine rummages through her papers, most likely looking for those documents pertaining every member of the Inquisition, companions included.

“Well, if he had, it’s definitely here!” the Antivan woman smiles happily after finally finding what she was looking for. “I am afraid I cannot remember the date, if he ever told me… but it must be here. I remember Leliana talked a lot with him the day he came to the camp at Haven and she always wants to know even the smallest details. Surely she didn’t forget asking his date of birth and age.”

But no matter how much Josephine reads the pages, no matter how many times Scarlet herself checks every name and row, they can’t find anything about him. He isn’t even listed there and Josephine notices how other names are missing too.

“Leliana must have the rest of the list then.” she sighs, smoothing the papers with a small frown on her face. Then she smiles at Scarlet, who is worried and disappointed again, and tries to reassure her.

“Don’t worry, Inquisitor! Everyone has a birthday, no?”

“Yes.” Scarlet smiles and, after thanking Josephine, she runs straight to Leliana, even ignoring Dorian in the library, much to his shock.

“You barely spoke to me at lunch!” the Altus shouts as she keeps running up the stairs. “Don’t tell me you are busy because I won’t believe you! You are always busy, but you always find the time to visit your best friend!”

“Oh, Dorian!” she laughs, turning back to hug him. “Sorry, but I am _really_ busy now! I have to find out when Solas’ birthday is!”

And she runs away again, not seeing Dorian’s flabbergasted face nor hearing his babbled “you don’t know??”.

Unfortunately, Leliana doesn’t have any information either. At first, she smiles warmly at the Inquisitor, saying she and the others didn’t learn about the Warden’s birthday until much later - “Poor Zevran was so sorry and embarrassed!” -, then she gets serious again and finds immediately the other part of the list Josephine mentioned.

“Here they are. All the information about your Inner Circle, Inquisitor.” She smiles again with a small nod. “Advisors included. Do you wish to take a look?”

Scarlet realizes she never read it. To be honest, she didn’t even ever know it _existed_ , although she had a vague feeling that either Josephine or Leliana would have something like that, if not written, then burned into their minds.

From afar, it looks pretty long, filled with details and many personal information. It feels like intruding, meddling in things that don’t really concern her, although she is sure Leliana thinks the exact opposite. She doesn’t want to hurt her friends’ sensibility and privacy, though, so she shakes her head.

“No, thank you, Leliana. It doesn’t feel… right. I am the Inquisitor, but also their friend and…”

“I understand, Inquisitor.” the human woman gently interrupts her. Her smile turns a bit sad, but it’s still warm and kind. “This is why I am your spymaster and why Justinia trusted me so much with similar matters. Leave it to me.”

Scarlet softly thanks her, then moves near the window, watching Leliana read carefully the long list until she finds the part entirely dedicated to Solas. She frowns, taps her chin, then mutters something.

Scarlet rushes to her, heart thundering in her chest, and her eyes are full of trepidation and hope… which punctually go away as Leliana says, frustrated: “It is not written here. Apparently he didn’t tell me or I didn’t think about asking him.”

She notices the disappointment on the Inquisitor’s face, but Scarlet quickly hides it and speaks before Leliana can apologize or find harsher solutions that involve her spies or perhaps even herself asking that question to Solas without much tact.

“It’s alright, Leliana. I will directly ask him.” She smiles and nods. “Thank you.”

Leliana looks about to say something else; the list in particular seems to worry her and Scarlet notices a second time how short the paragraph about Solas seems to be, but she doesn’t pay it much attention nor lets it worry her.

She knows he is deeply haunted by his past, but she never forced anything out of his mouth and she is willing to wait all the time he wants. She wouldn’t even mind it if he decided to never reveal what hurts him so: she just wants him to be find happiness again and she hopes she is helping him with that.

After thanking Leliana again and leaving the rotunda - before doing that, she hugs Dorian again and promises him to tell him everything later -, she is tempted to go to Cole. She is sure he knows more about Solas’ past than her and he could surely tell her when he was born.

But that would be rude and uncalled for too. What if Solas has all the reasons to hide the day of his birth? Perhaps it reminds him of painful bad times, perhaps he doesn’t celebrate it anymore. If he avoided the topic like that, it must be something important and serious and she can’t prepare a surprise party for him if the only result would be hurting him and evoking bad memories.

Like she told Leliana, she will ask him. She will be clear, reassuring him that he doesn’t have to tell her if he doesn’t want to, that she will always respect his desire to say little about his past.

And it’s with that resolution in mind that she enters their quarters, ready to discuss with him that delicate topic.

She wasn’t expecting the bed to be covered in rose petals, though. Where did he even find those?

She can’t help but giggle as soon as she sees it. Solas is sitting on the couch and he gets up seeing her enter; he smiles at her and even raises his eyebrows a bit, showing clearly his desire to get in bed with her.

He even lighted up some candles, although there is still plenty of light outside. But she understands why he did it and giggles even more, covering her mouth with a hand and looking down, face all red.

He is right at her side when she raises her head again.

“Hello, _ma vhenan_.” he whispers, brushing his lips against her ear. His hands tease her waist and hips and she makes a little, needy sound. “I prepared the bed, like you told me to do.”

“It’s pretty beautiful.” she says softly, moving her own hands on his chest and caressing it, feeling the lean muscles under the sweater. She cleaned it a few days ago and it still smells like the sweet herbs she and Solas gathered exactly for the purpose of personally washing their most private and precious clothes.

Solas’ fingers touch each of the buttons of her shirt and his eyes seem to shimmer as he locks them with hers and asks: “May I?”

He is so close and his breath is hot on her face. He brushes his nose against hers and she can feel his erection press against her thigh; her nipples feel stiff and there is that familiar heat growing in her groin that only he can cause.

She is about to say yes and let him carry her to bed, when she remembers the important thing she needs to tell him.

“Yes.” she starts and he moves to sweep her in her arms. “But first…!”

He immediately stops and even though he is as aroused as her, he doesn’t ignore her nor takes her to bed all the same. He looks at her, a bit alarmed but also interested, and waits patiently. His touch is gentle and warm as he takes her right hand.

“Yes?” he says, smiling, and she blushes, moving her eyes to his jawbone pendant. She wonders if he would like a gift like that.

“There is something I’d like to discuss with you.” She timidly looks up at him. “If that’s alright.”

“Of course.” He looks worried now and a small, concerned frown creases his forehead. The wrinkles around his eyes increase and Scarlet’s cheeks get redder, while the heat in her groin grows.

“It’s about your birthday. I mean…! I… I don’t know when you were born.” She doesn’t dare look at him as she says the next words: “I went to Josephine and Leliana earlier. I thought they had the date written down somewhere, but apparently they don’t know it either. I am sorry, it was very rude of me.”

She manages to look at him again, but doesn’t see anger or sadness on his face. On the contrary, he looks… touched?

“I know you don’t like talking about your past or your youth, so please, don’t feel forced to tell me anything. If you don’t want to tell me, don’t do it. Don’t even tell me why.” She smiles and rests her right hand on his cheek. “We can celebrate in other ways.”

Something shifts in Solas’ eyes: he still looks terribly touched, but now there is also sorrow in them and he nuzzles the palm of her hand, letting out a shaky sigh.

“Oh, _ma vhenan_.” he says, hugging her tightly. “I did nothing in my life to be worthy of you.”

“Hush. Don’t say these things.” She kisses his chin, then his jaw, then his nose.

“I’d like to tell you.” he says, but his smile is sad and a bit ashamed. “But I am afraid I do not know the date either.”

This shocks Scarlet. She thought of everything, _but_ this. This was a possibility that never even entered her mind, because it’s just so… so…

“ _Ma sa’lath_.” she breathes out, trying her hardest to avoid bursting into tears. The lump in her throat is nearly unbearable, but she is able to push back her tears, at least a little. “You mean you never celebrated your birthday?”

Solas thinks about it for a short while, frowning. Then he shakes his head.

“Yes. It’s… it’s difficult to explain, but…” He shrugs and his sad smile comes back. “I never considered it that important. Do not feel bad for me, _vhenan_.”

She wants to ask so many things, but she knows that would be too indiscreet and tactless. She promised him she won’t insist, that she won’t demand to know anything that he doesn’t want to reveal, and so she asks instead:

“But you know your current age. You told me so a short time ago.”

“Yes. I should be…” He pauses a moment, then continues, blushing a little: “Forty-six now.”

Scarlet blushes too and her smile is so endearing and goofy, Solas can’t help but snort and bump his nose against hers.

“Listen.” she starts, rubbing his sides in a sweet, reassuring manner. “Why don’t we choose a date for your birthday? We won’t have to prepare any party or invite the others if you don’t want to.” She smiles and fixes the collar of his sweater. “But at least you will finally be able to keep track of it and celebrate your birth.”

Before Solas can say his birth isn’t really that worthy or good to celebrate, she stops him with a kiss, saying: “We won’t tell anyone if it bothers you. Just you and me, sharing a cake.” She giggles and kisses him again. “And you will open presents!”

Solas smiles again and this time it’s a warm, even happy smile. He looks almost excited, like a kid.

Then he grows timid and asks softly: “What will you tell Leliana and Josephine? They will surely ask whether you learned the date or not.”

“I’ll tell them I didn’t ask you.” She caresses his cheek. “Leliana will understand we are hiding something, but this is your business, Solas, and nobody will ever force you to say when you were born to write it down on a list.”

He nods, stays quiet for a bit, playing with her hair and the top button of her shirt, then he adds, his voice even softer than before: “Then… I’d like it to be tomorrow. Four days after yours.”

“22 Bloomingtide it is then.” She cups his cheeks and rests her forehead against his, looking into his eyes. He is smiling and a deep blush tints his face pink and Scarlet feels relieved and happy.

She sees that same joy in Solas’ eyes and it increases when he asks: “If I may… would it be possible to order a chocolate cake from the kitchens?”

“Of course.” she giggles, starting to pepper his face with kisses. “You can have all the cakes you want.”

She even has the present ready. She actually bought it to give it to him during Satinalia, but this is the perfect occasion too and she thinks about the face he will make while they finally head to bed to continue what they started before.

The next day, after assuring Leliana, Dorian, and Josephine that everything is alright, but without disclosing that precious secret that only belongs to her and Solas, she asks the cooks to prepare the most delicious chocolate cake they can make and personally goes retrieve it when it’s ready, using her stealth abilities to not be seen and heard by anybody.

She asked Solas to go back to their quarters after receiving notice from a servant and when he enters the room and sees the cake, the colorful flowers she decorated the room with, and smells the perfumed herbs in the air, he still looks surprised and emotional, despite knowing about the surprise.

And when Scarlet puts her present on his lap - a beautiful collection of precious colours, jars of paint, and brushes from Antiva -, he looks on the verge of tears. They actually start running down his cheeks as she ties a Dalish bracelet that she wove for him that morning instead of writing back to nobles.

“There are forty-six colored beads, one for each year of your life.” she explains shyly, hoping he won’t mind the Dalish tradition. “I chose your favorite colors, green and brown, and added some red to… uh…” She fidgets a little, suddenly losing her nerve.

“To represent me.” she finally concludes with a small, timid voice, but then she beams at him and babbles, all excited: “Happy birthday, _vhenan_!”

He touches the bracelet with the greatest tenderness in the world and then looks at her in the same way, before hugging her and kissing her passionately. They are sitting on the edge of the bed, so he gently lies her down and starts peppering her face with kisses like she did with his the day before.

He laughs and _giggles_ with her, thanking her, and they spend of the day there in their rooms, trying the new colours and feeding each other the rich chocolate cake.

Solas’ eyes shine with joy and love for the whole time and Scarlet thinks that alone is worthy of endless celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh, finally an update! I had so much fun writing this ( ´ ▽ ` )
> 
> I like to imagine that either ancient elves didn't celebrate their birthdays (because they were immortal and time didn't flow in Elvhenan, so it wasn't really that important to keep track of the 'years' and remember when one was born) or Solas in particular never did. He can just say 'Alright, I look like a forty-something years old elf, so that's how old I am going to be from now on." 
> 
> Updates in general might be a little slower now that Zelda and Andromeda are going to be released soon, but nothing will ever drag me out of Dragon Age and Solavellan ( ´ ▽ ` ) Let's hope they will give us some news about DA4 at the E3!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	11. Marriage

This is a day she always hoped – _prayed_ – would come.

Before learning about Solas’ true identity, she often dreamed of it, sometimes even sharing those fantasies with him.

After their break-up, imagining that future hurt too much, but she still hoped it would come true one day, that he would come back to her to stay with her forever.

And then two years passed, they met in those elven ruins, her hand on fire, her heart and soul screaming in pain and love, and she kept hoping, looking at the northern part of the map of Thedas with that same fire that still burned in her heart.

Now, after all this time, after all their despair, fear, hard work, and sacrifices, she stands here, under a green canopy of light, dressed in ancient elven clothes decorated with Dalish motifs, glowing flowers in her red hair.

And Solas is standing in front of her, happy tears in his eyes and elegant clothes fluttering in the crisp wind.

They exchange elven vows: some are Dalish, words changed not to mention the false gods, others are ancient, learned from the restored spirits who can now remember the old life of Elvhenan, with its customs, celebrations, and rules.

Everyone they know is there: their friends, Scarlet’s family, her clan. It’s a private ceremony, held in a quiet, vast forest where ruins of the old elven world still linger, but where new trees have been growing for centuries, high and large like castles.

There are spirits, too, attracted by the feelings they can sense here: Joy and Love, Curiosity and Wisdom. All observing, floating next to the _waking people_ , as they call them, and playful wisps trill and giggle among the guests’ feet or hair.

Keeper Deshanna is officiating the ceremony and she learned what to say and what to do fairly quickly, despite how new this all is: nobody here, except for Solas and Abelas, ever lived in a world without Veil and the magic seems to build up, _grow_ in the air as they speak.

Scarlet can feel a pleasant warmth on her hand, right where Solas is touching it, every time he pronounces a word, and she can’t almost control herself and the surge of her own magic – so familiar and yet so unknown and frightening at the same time – as she gets emotional.

She fears she is in a dream, that this is another of her fantasies and that she will soon wake up, alone and cold, forced to face another tiresome, lonely day.

But Solas’ eyes promise only an eternity of bliss and love and this _feels_ real, unlike the countless dreams she had, which felt real enough to fool her for a bit, but then became painfully and evidently plays put on stage by her mind and the spirits of the Fade.

She can’t stop smiling and she lets her tears fall freely; she can see glimpses of magic in the air, sparkles that land on Dorian’s jewels, changing the colors of their gems, and on her mother’s hair, making it shimmer.

She wonders if her clothes and hair are doing the same, too, but she doesn’t want to look away from Solas.

He is smiling, too, the brightest, happiest smile she ever saw on his face. A shining tear rolls down his cheek and knowing it’s a tear of joy makes her heart jump in her chest.

And then the ceremony is over and Solas cradles her face in his hands and kisses her, with reverence and enthusiasm, barely holding back, while their friends cheer and erupt in loud, happy laughs.

She clings to his waist with her only hand and presses herself so close to him she’s sure they have become one – and it wouldn’t surprise her if they did, because she can already feel magic flow between them, sparked by their kiss.

It’s like their souls are mingling, fusing together, and for a long moment which feels like an eternity, she can’t tell where she begins and where he ends.

Then, he slowly, begrudgingly pulls away, but this time he doesn’t leave and his gaze on her doesn’t turn sad and afraid: he stares at her with eyes full of love and awe and his smile is blinding, more blinding than the sunrays entering through the roof of leaves above their heads.

She laughs, touching his face, caressing it, and he laughs with her, pressing his face into her hair and inhaling slowly, one hand on her cheek, squishing it gently, the other on the small of her back.

“ _Ma vhenan_.” he whispers, soft and warm, and her heart skips a beat again and she says: “ _Ma vhenan_.”

There is a golden ring on her right hand, now, and one on Solas’ too, two shiny bands that fit so nicely around their fingers and show everyone that they are together.

But they would show that even without those, she thinks. Everyone can see and feel they are bonded, tied to each other forever.

Now that the ceremony is over, it’s time to celebrate and eat and drink. Scarlet looks up at the sun visible through the leaves and it seems it didn’t move at all, nearly stuck to the sky, the laws of the flowing of time no longer valid in this new world.

But Solas softly tells her, noticing her surprise, that more than an hour has indeed passed since the start of the ceremony and he smiles, sweet and kind, when she asks him how he knows that.

“You will learn how to tell the time, too.” he says. “Days might seem endless, but you will recognize the signs and magic will help you.”

It still feels strange to be able to use magic. She never was a mage and even if she was surrounded by it for her entire childhood and then adult life, especially when she got the Mark on her hand, she never _wielded_ it.

She is afraid of setting things on fire accidentally, of thinking about a spell and involuntarily use it, and she knows that many of the people who share this new world with each other feel the same.

Her father still refuses to talk about the time when he froze an entire field of wheat, noticing it only after hearing the clan’s surprised cries.

At the same time, though, every elf and dwarf on Thedas knows and feels that this is right. This is how they are supposed to be, their rightful place and state in the world, and they are slowly learning, while teaching the other races to live in this new world, too.

Some humans still can’t get used to the colors and sounds in the air, even though Solas assured her they would have gone mad or perished if the Veil had fallen the way he had originally planned.

Now they can actually live here and even if the most sensible ones are still bothered by the magic running in their bodies and flowing around them, life goes on and even the Qunari have been teaching them ways to better deal with the odd sensation, after getting used to it themselves thanks to their special blood.

Scarlet looks at their friends gathered here: they seem perfectly comfortable, happy like she rarely saw them be before the fall of the Veil, eating and drinking with gusto while joking and laughing.

She feels Solas’ hand slip around hers and she squeezes it, looking up at him with a bright smile.

“Shall we go find the frilly cakes? I fear we won’t see even one if we wait some more.”

A playful glint appears in Solas’ eyes and he licks his lips.

“Absolutely, _ma sa’lath_.”

Her family quickly finds her and she sees that her father is still crying, trying to sniffle away his tears of joy. Her mother hugs her and Solas and her friends from her clan drag her into their circle, convincing her to let Solas mingle with the others guests for a little while.

They joke about her wedding night, just like they used to do whenever one of them got married, back in the old days, when the Veil was still up and Scarlet was still a simple huntress.

She blushes, looking down at the wooden cup she managed to take from one of the tables before being snatched away by her clan-mates. She smiles, embarrassed and eager at the same time, while her older friends share stories about their wedding nights and advices.

“I’m not a virgin anymore!” she exclaims, whispering, her face beetle red, but her friends cackle louder and then Sera appears, sliding an arm around her shoulder and grinning at her.

She is one of those who had most problems dealing with the sudden return of magic and immortality for the elves, but she is relaxed today, funny and crude like during the times of the Inquisition.

“Things are different now.” she says, munching a particularly shiny red apple. “Maybe all this magicky shite gave him a proper _wolf_ dong.”

Scarlet’s eyes widen so much and her face turns so red that Sera and her old friends laugh louder, pulling her into a tight embrace and ruffling her hair. She hears ‘ _dread cock_ ’ pronounced over and over and she splutters something to make them stop, unable to fight her smile and her embarrassment.

Bull and Messer Zevran are giving Solas an equally hard time: the Qunari is obviously sharing with him stories of his past experiences and all the positions he tried or heard about, while the witty Antivan elf is talking about _his_ marriage night with the Warden, giving advices to Solas with admirable calm and elegance, ignoring Solas’ mortified glare and red face.

Thankfully, Varric comes to the rescue, patting Bull and Zevran’s backs and winking at Solas, saying something about a vast array of frilly cakes waiting for him and his wife on a nearby table.

_Wife_. Solas’ wife. That’s what she is, Scarlet remembers. She can’t almost believe it and her heart is lighter than ever as she leaves her cackling friends be and join him, _her husband_ , gentle and beautiful.

His bashful grimace turns into a bright smile when he sees her and he immediately pulls her close, whispering in her ear: “The frilly cakes, _vhenan_. Before they drag you away from me again.”

“Sure.” she giggles, leaning onto him as he wraps an arm around her waist. Together they follow Varric to the table, while Bull waves at them, fluttering his only eye, and Zevran gets his cheek pinched by the Warden, who tells him to stop bothering the newlyweds.

Solas must be using his magic somehow, because she can feel a distinct warmth spread from where he’s touching her on her waist to her back and neck. It’s like a soothing caress and she leans further into his side, sliding her only arm around his waist.

She doesn’t know how to give him the same sensation – she doesn’t want to burn him or his clothes -, but her touch is enough, because his smile gets bigger and another kind of blush tints his cheeks.

“You are so beautiful.” he whispers in her ear and she giggles, hiding her blushing face against his clothes as he continues: “Radiant like the sun, _ma vhenan_.”

He kisses her nose and she feels a tug in her heart, like a message, a promise he’s giving her: she knows, even if he didn’t say it, that he will tell her so much more later, will _do_ much more than just kiss her face.

She wonders where they will go for their first married night together. The forest they are in is enormous, vast like a green ocean, and she is sure they will be able to find a good spot to rest in and spend the night together.

She doesn’t know where they will live, though. They talked about it, but never went into detail, too happy and relieved by the idea of finally being able to be together for all eternity to think about that. Now that the time has come, she feels a bit unprepared.

Before the marriage, they stayed in Kirkwall, using the estate Varric gave her. It was a blissful life and she would love to repeat it, but she also knows that Kirkwall isn’t exactly their most favorite place in Thedas and now that all magic has come back and the world is so heavenly and different, living in a city like that would be a huge pity.

People are already rebuilding the ruins and structures that got stuck in the Fade when the Veil was created. The Vir Dirthara is regaining its old beauty and knowledge, but it will take a while for everyone to go live back in those magical palaces and cities, especially since modern elves aren’t yet used to using their magic for such ambitious works and most of the ancient elves have to learn how to use it in this world that feels the same, but it’s also different from their old one.

So, no living in Kirkwall and no living in the magical cities in the sky. Wycome would be a good choice: her clan is living there, now, and they would be able to stay with her family, but she yearns for something more _private_ and _magical_ and she doesn’t quite know what that could be.

She will ask Solas about his wishes after the party. She knows he feels like her, that he would chafe in a life in the city, surrounded by magic, yes, but also walls, people, and her curious clanmates asking for info about their marital life.

Right now, they want to live in peace, preferably far from crowds, especially now that they are still so well-known and everyone wants to thank them or, in the case of some people, hurt them for what they did with the Veil.

“What is the love of my life thinking about?” Solas asks, a soft whisper in her ear that makes the flowers in her hair trill like bells and sends another warm shiver down her spine. She smiles at him, happier than she has ever been in her life, and replies:

“I’ll tell you later. Will you feed me this one, please?”

She points at a cute frilly cake on the table, made of chocolate and other ingredients she can’t recognize. Her heart is beating fast and her eyes are swelling with tears again; she feels dizzy with joy and when Solas turns to her, cake in his hand, she sees that he’s crying again too, his smile as big as hers.

She kisses him, wrapping her arm around his neck, and he stumbles backwards, careful not to drop the frilly cake. His free hand caresses her back, while their guests cheer and laugh around them.

She peppers his face with kisses and his mouth chases her, and they laugh too, spinning around and holding each other. Solas’ hand moves to her hair and he does something – she feels the familiar spark of his magic, a vibration in the air – and the flowers seem to get heavier.

She makes a surprised noise and touches them, her eyes widening when she realizes they’re woven into a flower crown now.

Solas laughs again, a boyish sound that echoes in her soul, and his lips find hers again, the kiss almost scorching hot and so, so sweet.

“Wait.” she gasps when they pull away. “Let me try.”

And even if she has no idea where to begin from, even if there aren’t any flowers on Solas’ head, she concentrates the same, hoping the magic flowing in her blood and breath will somehow understand what she’s attempting to do.

He once told her she just has to _think_ about the spell and let it come to her, trust her elven nature and instincts. It’s not easy to do so, because she was never a mage and even the enchanted rings she used at the time of the Inquisition scared her a bit, but now things are different and she wants to learn.

So she bites her lips and tries to imagine two flowers entwined together to form a flower crown: her fingertips tingle and she moves her hand far from Solas’ face, afraid of hurting him, but he smiles and puts it back to where it was.

Then, after a bright, but small explosion of life in her hand, her fingers hold a beautiful circlet, with two big flowers at the opposite ends: it’s not exactly what she had imagined and she pouts at it for a second, but the pride and joy in Solas’ eyes are so clear that she feels proud too.

“I need to practice more, but…” She slides the circlet behind his head, so that the two flowers rest on his ears. She giggles, caressing her husband’s cheek. “But this will do for now. You look _adorable_ , _vhenan_.”

“Only thanks to you.” He kisses her nose, making her giggle again. His smile is so beautiful and her knees feel weak. “You did an amazing job, my love.”

“They look pretty!” she admits, bouncing on her feet. The flowers seem to glow, now, and she wonders if she enchanted them somehow. She is about to ask Solas when he shows her the frilly cake that survived their enthusiastic kiss and hug.

“You still haven’t tasted it.” he reminds her, his sweet smile turning into a roguish, amused smirk as he takes the little strawberry on top and moves it near her lips.

She blushes and opens her mouth, trying not to break eye contact, but Solas is looking at her in _that_ way and she can’t help but look away and giggle again, red like a tomato.

Even the taste of food has changed: it feels stronger, clearer in her mouth, and sometimes it even changes, turning into something different, another flavor that reminds her of another food she likes.

This frilly cake, in particular, is sweet and rich, its dense paste melting in her mouth, and she moans happily before tearing a piece for Solas.

“It’s so good! Here, take it!”

He takes it into his mouth much slower than she did and he doesn’t break eye contact; his tongue even touches her fingers briefly, making her squeal, and his lips curl into a huge grin when she babbles something, cheeks redder than before.

Right then, a beautiful music starts playing. It seems to come from everywhere and anywhere at the same time and there is no orchestra, there are no musicians in the forest, just them and their friends.

But someone – maybe Solas himself? – clearly used a special spell and people start to realize the party has truly begun now and it’s time to dance.

“This music sounds Dalish, but…” Scarlet closes her eyes and tries to listen to it better. “But the rhythm is slower to the ones I’m used to hearing. Is it ancient elven?”

“I believe so.”

Solas’ voice is extremely close, now, and she opens her eyes: his face is just a few inches from hers and he is smiling, sweet and kind and completely in love.

She kisses him, a quick, but heated peck on his chocolate-smeared lips, and his hand squeezes her waist while his eyes look into her, into her very soul.

“Come. Dance with me, my love.” He brushes his mouth against hers, whispering: “The band won’t stop playing for a long time, today.”

Scarlet’s heart beats faster and she’s sure the flowers she created for Solas are enchanted, because their color gets more vivid. The flower crown on her head is emitting a soothing warmth and she realizes that’s Solas’ enchantment, the one that shows what he is feeling.

Some people are already dancing at the center of the glade, a slow, intimate dance suitable for a marriage; she never danced this dance before and Solas moves a bit awkwardly too at first, but then they find a good rhythm and she tucks her head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his perfume.

Solas presses his cheek on her temple and he plants a kiss on it and her forehead every few minutes.

They sway in each other’s arms and even though Scarlet has just one, she does what she can with it: she rests it upon Solas’ heart, feeling his excited heartbeat, and his hand immediately moves to cover it, while the hand on the small of her back squeezes her harder.

She feels like she is in a dream again and panic briefly rises in her chest; she subconsciously _knows_ this is not a dream, she can _feel_ it, but she needs to be sure or she will go insane. She can’t see Solas’ eyes, now, not like during the ceremony, and that doesn’t help calm her down.

“Solas…” she murmurs and he must sense that something is off, because he holds her closer, his safe embrace tighter than before.

“ _Ma sa’lath_.” he says, worried. “What is wrong?”

“This is not a dream, right?” She swallows. Breathing suddenly feels so hard and the tears in her eyes are not good tears now. “We are not… We are not dreaming, right?”

“No, _ma vhenan_. This is real. Please, do not fear. You must never feel scared again.” His voice is soothing, calm, but also absolutely confident and almost heated. “Breathe deeply. Feel the humming of magic in the air. Listen to the music. Feel the grass underneath your feet.”

She does so, slowly, one step at a time, but she is still scared. She opens her eyes, wishing to look at him, and then she sees it: her wedding ring, shining under the sunlight, visible between his beautiful fingers.

Serenity and peace come back into her heart and she looks up at him, smiling brightly. Solas is smiling back and they kiss again before returning to their original positions to continue dancing.

“Oh, Solas!” she sobs happily, nuzzling his neck. “I’m so happy!”

His voice is shaky with laughter and joyous tears at the same time when he replies: “As am I, _vhenan_.” He presses another kiss just above her eyebrow.

“ _Ar lath, ma vhenan_.” she says, still swaying in his arms, and his voice full of love reassures her again:

“ _Ar lath, ma vhenan_.”

They continue dancing like that until the music changes: Solas presses soft kisses on her face and she nuzzles his neck, all while talking or laughing and exchanging jokes with the people they meet while swaying around the glade.

“You’re married now, my friends.” Dorian tells them when they sit down to regain breath, even though they don’t really need to do so. “You can move your hand lower and touch each other’s ass.”

“Dorian!” she exclaims, swatting his arm and making the human tilt his head backwards and laugh.

She blushes, but shoots a shy look at Solas, who is smiling down at his glass: “There will be time for that _later_.”

He looks up and his mischievous smile makes her blush even more and she remembers the message, the promise, he sent her through his magic.

“And how more marvelous making love is, now that time is flowing so slowly!” Dorian exclaims, smiling at his best friend, and Scarlet can’t help but agree, remembering the days she and Solas spent in Kirkwall, those pockets of eternity they created in their bedroom.

She is sitting on his lap and his hand quickly, discreetly, moves to her butt, making her gasp. He keeps looking at the drink swirling in his glass, but the corners of his mouth are raised and he is showing her _something_ with his magic, sending beautiful images of love in her mind.

The flowers on his head change color, turning a deep shade of red, and he seems to notice it even if he cannot see them, because he grins again while Dorian snickers and congratulates them again.

“What about children? Surely _now_ it’s time to think about them.” the magister continues, wiggling his eyebrows at Scarlet, who beams at him and exclaims: “Oh, yes!”

It was their greatest desire during the time of the Inquisition, so now that the world seems finally to be at peace, that desire can’t really be held back anymore. Every time she imagines Solas holding a baby – _their_ baby -, her heart swells with love and enthusiasm.

“And…?” Dorian prompts her to continue, his eyes shining as well, probably looking forward to being called ‘uncle’ and pampering a cute little elven child. “When should we expect them?”

That’s a good question. Scarlet still doesn’t know where they are going to live and that also stopped her from imagining _when_ the children would come. But she knows Solas wants them as badly as she does, they just have to figure out where their house is going to be.

“Soon.” he says before she can answer and she smiles at him, happy to hear him say that. He is smiling, too, and his hand on her waist squeezes it playfully. “We still need some time, but fortunately we have all the time in the world now.”

“Well, _you_ have.” Dorian pouts, sniffling. “Humans didn’t gain immortality, remember? We’ve only got a few _centuries_ before we punctually go meet the Maker.”

“I’m sure it will be much sooner than that.” Solas says softly and Scarlet cuddles against his chest, the smile on her face so huge her cheeks almost hurt.

Her joy makes Solas’ flowers trill again and the spirits mingling with the other guests turn to watch her every once in a while. Cole appears at her side, crouching on the soft grass whose color changes and shifts out of the corner of one’s eye.

“Hello.” he says, his smile as happy as hers, and she throws her arm around his neck. He is one of those who most believed in what she and Solas were doing before the fall of the Veil and his support and friendship have been tremendously important to them, a priceless, precious thing to have.

“Are you enjoying the party?” she asks him, brushing back his golden hair. Even though the world is so special and magic, now, he still wanders the waking world and the Fade using his human look, his blue eyes and big hat the unmistakable signs he always carries with himself.

“Yes. Different songs and music, all blending together in a nice, warm balance. Everyone is happy.” His smile grows. “You are, too. You deserve this.” He is speaking to her and Solas both and her husband smiles at the spirit boy.

“Are you ready to become an uncle, Cole?” Dorian asks with sincere fondness and amusement, handing him a sweet drink made of fruits that won’t bother his delicate tastebuds too much.

“I’m not sure how to be one, but I’ll do my best.”

“Just keep being yourself.” Solas chuckles. “And you will do more than fine.”

“That depends on the number of children. What if you and Scarlet have more than one at the same time? Twins?” Dorian laughs again seeing her blush and excited smile. “Look at her, she is already looking forward to it!”

“Well…” She plays with her empty glass that she brought on her lap. “I wouldn’t mind having many children. Almost everyone in my clan has a large family and I’m good with kids.”

“How many would you like?”

She bites her lips, fighting her smile and hoping her cheeks aren’t that red, but Cole answers for her, laughing happily: “She thinks ten is a good number.”

Solas chokes on his drink and Dorian howls with laughter again while Scarlet splutters something and hides her face behind her hand.

“C-Cole!”

The spirit boy laughs and presses a kiss on her hair before disappearing, probably headed to where Abelas and Harding are eating together or where Blackwall and Leliana are exchanging theories about how all this magic, all these changes, can change someone’s faith.

She can’t honestly tell how long the party lasts. She dances with Solas again, then with some of their friends, then they eat and talk with spirits, never tired, never aching, always smiling and laughing.

Solas often pulls her away to hide in one of the tents or behind a tree and he kisses her until they feel they are becoming one again; then they kiss each other’s face, still unable to believe this is real, that this is really happening, in complete awe.

The sun is still up in the sky when people start to congratulate them again before the tables are whisked away by a wave of magic.

It’s time for her and Solas to initiate their honeymoon. They will change into something more comfortable and leave for whatever destination they choose, any part of Thedas ready to be reached in less than a breath, such a mindblowing concept even after all this time.

She moves inside one of the tents that have been raised in the glade and her mother and her friends help her change clothes, while Solas is dragged away by a roaring Bull and a worried Dorian, who seriously hopes he brought a good, elegant outfit for the journey ahead.

Scarlet’s dress is simple, but comfortable; she sewed it herself, adding floral motifs on the sleeves and two wolves right above the heart. She knows Solas’ clothes are similar, because she added the same details on them, too, and she hears Dorian’s shout of surprise and admiration in the tent nearby.

“You look stunning, my dear.” Vivienne says, shrouded in light and jewels, beautiful and kind like a motherly queen. Scarlet sees tears in her eyes and her smile is warm like her touch on her shoulder. “Now go reclaim that eternal happiness that is rightfully yours.”

Scarlet hugs her and all the other women in the tent; Cassandra and Josephine are crying again, Sera is sniffling and pretending she isn’t touched by the whole scene, her mother kisses her face and blesses her, Leliana and Lady Mahariel beam at her and grasp her hand, Harding drapes a beautiful lace shawl she made for her – “with my mom’s help!” – and Charter hands her a cute leather bag perfect for the road ahead.

They cry all together some more and some spirits enter the tent, too, ready to share their emotions, and they ask many questions and congratulate Scarlet as well, making flowers grow at her feet as she walks and turning the brim of her dress gold.

She leaves the tent, followed by her mother and her friends, and sees Solas waiting for her just a few steps away, a familiar backpack on his back and two glowing red dots on his cheeks.

His smile is as big as the one he had during the ceremony and she kisses the dimples on his cheeks before taking his hand. There are tears in their eyes again and they stop smiling at each other only when Dorian calls them and they have to turn to their friends and guests.

They wish them a safe journey and Scarlet finds it odd that nobody asked them where they are headed, but she thinks they perhaps don’t want to be too nosy.

She reassures her parents that she will contact them soon and she dries Dorian’s tears when he starts getting emotional, promising him she will call him through their sending crystals as well.

She giggles seeing Solas trapped in a tight hug by Bull and Blackwall, but he is laughing and patting their backs and he even shares a short hug with Sera, ruffling her hair.

He gets redder than a tomato, though, when she shouts something about his “dread cock”.

He babbles an apology to Scarlet’s parents and accepts her mother’s kiss on his forehead with a timid smile, then he clasps her father’s arm and thanks them both.

It takes them a while, but in the end, they manage to thank and say goodbye to everyone; even Abelas is smiling and his eyes look a bit glossy, even though he will never admit it.

They leave the glade, walking deep into the forest, turning back multiple times to wave at their friends. Then, once everyone is out of their sight, hidden by the tall trees, they walk hand in hand again, ready to start their new life together.

It’s like their time in the Inquisition, when they would wander southern Thedas’ vast forests or fields with their friends, ready to help people and improve the Inquisition’s strength.

No, it’s even better than that: this time they have no duty to fulfill, no Veil to worry about, no mad magister to defeat. They are _free_ and freedom has never tasted better.

Solas nuzzles her cheek, pressing soft pecks on it whenever the roots and the depressions on the ground allow him; Scarlet presses herself against his side, squeezing his hand and kissing his chin and they talk, occasionally joined by a curious spirit who follows them for a while and then politely leaves them alone, recognizing the importance of that day.

They laugh a lot, more than they ever laughed before in their lives, and they play with magic: Solas shows her the simplest spells and she tries to repeat them, focusing hard and successfully summoning flames or lighting on her hand.

But it’s hard for them to not hold each other’s hand, so they decide to practice with magic later and just enjoy their stroll in the forest in the meantime.

Sometimes they stop to look at each other or at their rings with huge smiles and they cry some more, holding and kissing each other, and she presses her ear against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, while he caresses her back and kisses the top of her head, murmuring words of love and adoration.

He recreates beautiful scenes and landscapes in front of them as they continue walking; the forest changes with a simple gesture of his hand and she smells scents and hears sounds that her mind cannot recognize or give a name to.

Every once in a while, the roof of leaves above their heads move and they can see the floating islands and small cities in the sky; soon they will be complete and fixed again, but they can already admire their beauty and elegance.

It’s a faint sound, but they can also hear a familiar humming under their feet: it’s the sound of the Titans bound to the dwarves, all united in a single, complex, rich conversation that runs across the land through the earth, the stone, and the glowing lyrium. The tone is kind and Scarlet thinks it’s like they are congratulating her and Solas, too.

Then the wolves come.

Playful and sweet, they run around them, whining happily, before stopping to let them pet them.

Scarlet recognizes a cute gray wolf they call Revas, who seems to be incredibly fond of her and punctually ignores Solas to rest his huge head on her lap.

Solas sniffles indignantly, eyeing the wolf warily, but his lips curl into a happy, bright smile when Scarlet giggles and coos.

“Sorry, Revas, but Solas is the sweetest wolf in Thedas now.”

“Wasn’t I before, too?” he asks, pretending to be offended, only to smile again in that love-struck way when she laughs again and nods.

The wolf pack includes some cubs, too, and they lose their minds over them. They are adorable, soft, and absolutely marvelous and they all find a good spot to nap on Scarlet’s lap and Solas’ legs.

They decide to take a break like that, surrounded by beautiful wolves, resting against one of the tallest, biggest trees. The light is finally changing and Scarlet can sense the slow flowing of time, if she focuses hard enough.

“ _Ma vhenan_.” Solas whispers in her ear, watching her pet the soft fur of one of the cubs. The ring shimmers cheerfully on her finger.

“Mh?” She smiles at him, seizing the chance to press a sweet kiss on his lips. “Yes, my love?”

Her word of endearment makes him blush and he nuzzles her neck – she realizes he has been nuzzling her a lot since the successful fall of the Veil -, before asking:

“Is what Cole said true? Would you really like to have ten children?”

She makes a funny sound and cuddles further into his side, enjoying the feeling of his hand on her waist and his lips on her cheek and ear.

She blushes too and nods, turning to look at him with warm, kind eyes.

“Yes.” she says, watching his face lighten up. “We never talked about this in detail, I know.” She clears her throat and asks timidly: “Do you think ten kids might be too much?”

Solas takes a deep breath, the corners of his mouth raising.

“Well, it’s certainly a large number.” His smile slowly fades away, replaced by a more serious expression. “I don’t want you to strain yourself, _ma vhenan_. Even with magic filling this world to the brim again, it would still be a huge effort.”

She caresses the head of the cub currently snoring on his legs and says softly, smiling sweetly down at the little wolf: “ _Emma lath_ , I would be happy even with just one child.”

Solas’ smile makes her heart beat faster.

“Yes.” He rests his forehead against hers. “Yes. Me too, _ma sa’lath_.”

They look down at the cubs peacefully napping and his hand covers hers, their rings shining together under the orange light of the slowly setting sun.

“Two might be a good number, too.” Scarlet adds shyly, looking at him from under her long eyelashes, and she sees him bites his lips to refrain himself from grinning and laughing.

“What?” she breathes out, smiling as well. “Two can’t be that much of a stress! The women of clan Lavellan are strong and sturdy, you know?”

He doesn’t hold back, now, and his laughter fills the forest and briefly awakens the wolves.

“I know, my love.” he says, still laughing as he peppers her face with kisses. “That would be marvelous.”

He cups her cheek in his hand and looks at her with soft, awed eyes and his smile sends pleasant, nice shivers down her spine and groin.

She laughs happily and kisses him; the kiss quickly starts to become passionate and wet, but the wolves complain because they’re moving too much and Revas growls at Solas, pushing him against the tree to join the cubs on Scarlet’s lap.

Solas glares down at him and tries to make him move, but the wolf stubbornly anchors himself to the ground and refuses to get down. He even starts whining to convince Scarlet to pat and stroke his head.

She giggles when Solas huffs and rests his head on her shoulder, watching her hand move across the wolf’s head with a wishful expression that seems to say “I wish that were me.”

“Don’t worry, _vhenan_.” she promises him, kissing his forehead. “I’ll cuddle with you later.” She looks at the darkening sky, then at the forest.

“We should look for somewhere to sleep.” She turns to Solas, gasping excitedly. “Oh! Maybe we can build a refuge with magic? Or we could ask the spirits for directions or…”

“ _Ma vhenan_.” He smiles at her, stroking her cheek. “Do you want to walk a little more? There is a place I want you to see.”

Then he panics, perhaps fearing she’s thinking about the last time he took her to a special spot.

“It is going to be good, this time, I swear.”

“Silly wolf, I know.” she chuckles, kissing his chin. She slightly bounces on the spot, mindful of the wolves, but unable to contain her interest and excitement. “What kind of place is it?”

“It is a surprise.” His smile is smug and sweet at the same time. “Now, shall we go? I want you to see it before it’s dark.”

The wolves complain a little when they say they are leaving and Revas in particular whines and cries until Scarlet promises him he will see her again.

They give them and the cubs one last caress and kiss and then they resume their journey, walking hand in hand again.

The pack follows them among the trees for a while, then it changes direction with a long, cheerful howl of goodbye.

The forest slowly starts to change: the ground becomes even and small, crystalline rivers flow nearby, colorful flowers and bushes appear near large rocks and the scents in the air are now different.

Scarlet recognizes them: wood, yes, but not the one typical of a forest, but rather the burned one used for a fireplace, to warm oneself. Then she smells food and she hears small bells, all coming from the same direction.

“Is there a village nearby?” she asks, trying to see where the forest ends. But it doesn’t: it’s vast and she doesn’t hear anyone, no voices, no sounds that would indicate the presence of any settlement and any number of people.

“Yes, but it is outside this forest. We are very deep into it and it would take us some time to reach the village.”

“But then…” She shakes her head, peering closely across the trees and grass. “What is this noise? It sounds like the wooden bells and sticks my clan used to hang from the aravels to entertain the children and keep the demons away.”

Solas kisses her cheek, but doesn’t reply, and she frowns, narrowing her eyes and scrunching up her nose.

“And this good smell… it’s bread, isn’t it?”

“Indeed.” She hears a smile in Solas’ voice.

Then she sees it. A beautiful cottage, appearing from behind the trees, standing at the center of a beautiful clearing full of flowers.

Scarlet gasps and stops. She saw that house before, much time ago; it was sketched on the page of some old book she and Solas found in the underground library at Skyhold.

She fell in love with that drawing and kept it to feed her dreams and fantasies with it. Dalish elves don’t know how owning a place, a house, feels like – they still have to get used to it, even after the Restoration – and she always dreamed she could live in a house like that with Solas someday.

The thing is, the house in front of them is _identical_ to the one depicted in that sketch, she is sure of it. What does it mean? Did Solas find it for her? Did he recreated it using his magic?

Does he want her to meet someone?

She looks at him, her mouth still hanging open, and she asks softly: “Who lives there?”

Solas’ smile grows and he presses another kiss on her cheek.

“Shall we go in?” he says and she babbles, taken aback: “Can we? What if…”

He chuckles and leads her towards the house, nuzzling her face as they walk.

“Come with me, _vhenan_.”

The unruly garden is beautiful and Scarlet would spend the entire day there if the house didn’t look so special and beautiful: there are carvings on the beautiful door – wolves and flowers and the shining sun -, colorful plants are hanging from the roof, together with those bells and sticks that she recognized.

She can glimpse the cozy kitchen through one of the closed windows – and she sees that fresh bread is cooling off on the table - and she falls in love with the path leading to the main entrance.

Then Solas opens the door with a wave of his hand and she gasps again, taking in all the carved wooden beams on the ceiling, the elven arches and the elven style of the tiles on the floor; she admires the warm colors that remind her of autumn, of hot soups eaten in front of a fire, of cozy nights spent in a soft bed…

And then she sees the living room and the huge fireplace in it, the stairs leading to the second floor, the many elven details scattered all around. There is not much furniture in the house, as if someone just put there the most important, basic stuff and decided to fill it later. But what it’s there now is already perfect and her heart can’t stop thundering in her chest.

“Do you like it?” Solas asks timidly and she suddenly sees his nervous, hopeful expression and feels his tight grip on her hand. He is worried…?

“Oh, Solas, I _love_ it, this is…” She sighs, pushing back tears. “This is exactly the house I dreamed for us.”

“This was my dream as well.” He makes another timid sound and nods at the stairs. “There are more rooms upstairs.”

“Why are we here?” She looks at him, all those emotions preventing her from fully understanding what’s going on. Then it hits her and her eyes widen as she opens and closes her mouth multiple times, trying to find the right words.

Solas’ smile returns, brighter than ever.

“Wait…!” she exclaims and this time tears stream down her face freely. “Is this…?”

“Our home, yes.” He blushes and hurries to add: “If you want it! You can change anything you want, change the furniture, the style, the… the…” He sighs and continues, his voice a bit shaky: “Dorian and Vivienne wanted to gild everything, but I thought you wouldn’t like it, so…”

“The others know about this?” she exclaims, remembering Dorian’s unreadable expression when she once told him she still didn’t know where she and Solas would live.

“Yes.” he chuckles. “We have been working on this for quite some time, now.” He panics again, looking at her with puppy-like eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this sooner. Would you prefer to go somewhere else? Do you wish to go back to Kirkwall or Wycome? We…”

She throws her arm around his neck and kisses him, an open-mouth kiss that leaves them both breathless. He moans into her mouth and she touches his face as his hands caress her back and hair.

“ _Ma vhenan_!” she sobs happily, pressing her face against his neck. “Is this our house? Really?”

“Yes, it is, my love. Nobody will ever take it from us.”

There are happy tears in his eyes and voice, too, and she raises her head, kissing him again. When the kiss ends, they are both smiling at each other, cheeks red.

Then Solas gets timid again and says quickly: “The furniture! I didn’t want to put too much, so that you would be able to decide what you most prefer and…”

“Solas, this is _our_ house.” she laughs, pecking his lips. “We will decide together!”

She looks around, sniffling happily, love and joy ready to make her heart burst.

“I already love it.” she says and it’s true, this house is the most beautiful place she has ever seen in her life, even more beautiful than the glowing palaces and libraries that are slowly being rebuilt above their heads. “It’s _perfect_. Oh! Do you think I should sew some curtains for those windows? And pillows! Pillows to lie down in front of the fireplace!”

“That sounds great, _vhenan_.” Solas presses a loud kiss on her lips, making her giggle. “I will take care of the walls and ceiling, then. I already have ideas for some frescoes.”

She gets even more excited hearing that.

They move all around the house, exploring every room and imagining their future use; she cries again when she sees he added a room where they can sew and paint in peace, a sort of office dedicated to their hobbies. And they get emotional again, too, when they see two bedrooms that have been left clearly furnished with a certain idea in mind.

“Yes. Two is the _perfect_ number.” Scarlet announces, nodding with tears in her eyes again. Solas chuckles and kisses her shoulder before showing her _their_ bedroom.

And there they cry again, holding each other and convincing themselves that this is really happening.

“Thank you, Solas.” she says, looking at the large bed covered with pelts and soft furs, then at him. “This is… This is _beautiful_. I’ve never been so happy in my life before.”

She giggles, rubbing her eyes. “Well, except for when the Veil fell and everyone survived, I guess.”

He chuckles softly again, then gently brings her back into his arms again.

“We should start choosing new furniture soon.” he says, kissing her head. “Magic will be a great help, too.”

“We have a bathroom, now.” she murmurs, in awe, and he adds, as happy as her: “And a storage closet like the one in our room at Skyhold.”

She makes a little sound and then slowly raises her head, looking outside the windows: the sun is setting and it’s almost dark and the bread is waiting downstairs.

“Sweet husband, why don’t we go eat something in our lovely kitchen,” she starts, smiling and watching a cute blush spread on Solas’ cheeks, “and then we try our bed out?”

He licks his lips, eliciting her giggles, and then he grins, before scooping her up in his arms.

“Wonderful idea, my sweet wife.” he says, kissing her, then heading towards the stairs. He lowers his voice, adding with a playful tone: “There are also those pastries from the Free Marches that you love so much, _vhenan_ , and some frilly cakes, too.”

And when he kisses her neck, laughing and making her giggle in return, more flowers bloom in the garden outside their house and spirits stop by the windows to admire the love and bliss of the newlywed couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back after 2000 years with some cute, sweet Solavellan fluff ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> The sketch Scarlet is referring to comes from [Elven Glory](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6100747). 
> 
> Check out [the wonderful picture](http://lafaiette.tumblr.com/post/161863742085/i-commissioned-this-gorgeous-astounding) based on this chapter that [snuffes](http://snuffes.tumblr.com/) drew for me!


	12. Parenthood

When he enters the cozy, warm living room, the sight that welcomes him takes his breath away.

Scarlet is sitting on the comfortable armchair in front of the fireplace, sewing embroideries on a child’s shirt, a smile on her round, flushed face.

Her belly is round and huge and she stops sewing to pat it every few minutes, probably to calm the kicking baby inside it. Her smile never falters and her eyes shine like the sun in the timeless sky.

Quietly, without making a sound, Solas opens his sketchbook that he brought with him outside to take note of the way their garden is growing.

He remembers everything about Scarlet’s face and body, he doesn’t even need to look at her twice, but he constantly looks away from the sketchbook to her, basking in the glory that the sight of her is.

His foot barely shifts on the floor, but the wooden tiles creaks loudly enough for her to hear; she raises her head, beaming at him, then her eyes move to the sketchbook in his hands and she blushes, groaning and hiding her face behind the child’s shirt.

“ _Ma vhenan_.” he chuckles, going to her and sitting at her feet to kiss her knees and her belly. “My love, you are gorgeous.”

“I am _round_.” she whines, but she is still smiling, a shy smile that illuminates her face. Solas’ breath hitches in his throat and he has to get up and kiss her before this short distance kills him.

“You are _perfect_.” He smiles at her, kisses her again, then nods at the armchair. “May I?”

She nods and he delicately lifts her, enjoying her blush, before sitting where she was sitting before and helping her rest on his lap.

He kisses the stump of her left arm, then her shoulder, then her neck, and finally her cheek and lips again.

“Perfect.” he repeats and the light and colors in the house change, influenced by his love and adoration.

Scarlet sees and senses that and she hides her face and her smile against his shoulder, sighing happily when he squeezes her gently in his arms.

“How is the garden coming along?”

“Pretty well. Those sweet-scented flowers that Bull sent us from Par Vollen are blooming. Look.”

He opens the sketchbook and shows her all the flowers and plants he drew for her; now that the birth is so close, she finds it a bit tiring to leave the house and their garden is so vast and large it would take her a while to explore it fully.

“We could take some of them and put them around the house, if you’d like.” Solas says, kissing her hair as she delicately traces the petals he drew and flips the thin pages.

“We should enchant them, first. I don’t want them to die, they are so beautiful!” She sighs, patting her belly again, then she chuckles. “I think the baby can’t wait to see the outside world. He has been kicking nonstop since yesterday.”

Solas grows worried and antsy at that. He glances down at her round belly, gently rests his hand on it, then gulps, paling.

“Are you…” The words are soft, whispered, scared. “Are you feeling alright, _vhenan_?”

“Of course!” She grins at him and while he is pale and his eyes are full of concern, her cheeks are rosy and her smile is bright and cheerful. “Solas, I’m feeling well. This is perfectly normal.”

“I know, but…”

“Besides, it’s not time yet. The baby is kicking and moving a lot, but two months are left and I know he won’t be premature. I can feel it.”

Magic has been restored to Thedas, although in a slightly different way, but that difference still makes Solas worry sometimes, especially in cases like this, when Scarlet’s health may be in danger or she may feel more pain and displeasure than necessary.

But he trusts her and her judgement, so he tries to relax, knowing that she will warn him immediately, should something feel wrong. Also, the idea of soon being able to lull their child in his arms fills him with more joy than he can describe, melting all his worries away for the moment being.

“It is almost time for supper.” he says, pressing light kisses on her cheek and temple. The golden band on her finger shines under the sunlight entering from the windows and his heart races faster, making a huge smile form on his now flushed face. He looks at the band on his finger and finds it shining as much as hers.

“If you are feeling up to it, we could go eat in the ruins nearby. The weather is warm today.”

“Will you carry me?” She looks a bit ashamed, but she tries to hide it with a somewhat playful expression. She is a stealthy rogue and she isn’t used to feeling so full and restrained in her movements; she yearns for her prior agility, but Solas knows she would live like this for nine more months if it meant helping the baby grow strong and healthy.

And he can’t deny how much he likes to see her like this, despite all his worries: florid and round with their child, full of love and ideas for the future, like the adorable shirt she was sewing shows.

He smiles at her, stars in his eyes and love growing in the room, saying: “Of course, my love. Always.”

He nuzzles her cheek and neck, inhaling her perfume, and chuckles when she yelps, his lips tickling the soft space under her ear.

“Will you tease me for the whole evening?” she asks, eyeing him with an amused smile, but also a pointed look, one that clearly demands more. “Would you do such a thing to your poor, _hungry_ wife-”

“I believe the hunger you speak of is different from the one easily satisfied by a meal.” he grins, sliding one hand under her dress to touch her thigh. She blushes and her smile grows as she adjusts herself on his lap and closes the artbook on hers.

“It depends on the meal.”

But then she blushes some more and looks down at her belly, mumbling pensively: “Although I doubt I would be able to lay down on my stomach to kiss you _there_ , right now.”

“You don’t have to do such a thing.” Solas scoffs, kissing her nose with a frown that isn’t directed at her, but at the mental image of her in such a pose. He never misses the chance of worshipping her and the mere idea of her trying to strain herself to please him fills him with horror.

“ _I_ will be the one to kiss _you_ there.” he continues, pressing his lips all over her face. He smiles at her, a blush tinting his cheeks pink as well. “If you will have me, _vhenan_.”

“Of course I will. You are stuck with me now.” She sticks out her tongue and he tries to catch it with a kiss, making her giggle.

He remembers the past years, those they spent in the Inquisition, the ones that followed the Exalted Council, and finally the bliss that waited for them at the end.

The past year has been the happiest year of their lives and they know that many others await them, especially now that the baby is on his way and their friends are as excited as them for his arrival.

Dorian has already made plans to visit them as soon as the little one is born or perhaps even sooner, if “politics and boring matters” will allow him.

They don’t have much time left to enjoy their privacy, then. Even Harding, Varric, and Cassandra threatened to pop into their house uninvited and Cole has been a constant companion in the past year, appearing out of nowhere to spend the afternoon or evening with them.

It’s _fantastic_ and Solas is actually looking forward to those visits, but with Scarlet here in his arms, warm and bright like the sun, he wishes to bask in just her presence for some more time.

His heart skips a beat when he imagines their child and he can’t hold back his huge smile and tears.

They don’t spill from his eyes, but Scarlet sees them all the same; she recognizes them as happy tears and her kiss is soft and sweet, her caress on his cheek even more, and even if this is their first time being parents, even if they don’t know everything about being parents yet and a bit of fear is always mixed with all this joy and trepidation swimming in their blood, they know they will do a good job.

It will work. It will be good. This – together with his marriage with Scarlet – will be one of the few things he did right.

He knows this and she knows it too and they prepare for the birth with this certainty burning reassuringly in their hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT IS DONE ( ´ ▽ ` )
> 
> I really wanted to conclude this fic with a good, positive chapter, one that I really wish will happen for Solavellan. At first there was smut in it, but then I changed my mind and kept it short and simple, full of fluff and kisses. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all your comments, kudos, and compliments, they helped me greatly and I appreciated every single one of them! I will focus on finishing Joy and Humility and Vir Suledin now - if this terrible hot weather and my health will allow me - and on writing many more Solavellan fics. Hopefully we will get news about DA4 soon ; v ;

**Author's Note:**

> What are short chapters, you ask? I WOULDN'T KNOW. NO IDEA.
> 
> I only know I have two other multi-chaptered fics to finish and yet I am starting a new one ( ´ ▽ ` ) I swear I will try to keep the chapters of this one brief, I SWEAR.
> 
> Anyway, hooray, more fluff! There is going to be smut and some fluffy angst too. For those interested, here is [Scarlet](http://lafaiette.tumblr.com/scarletlavellan).


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